


Family Matters

by Enby_In_Fandom



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Fluff, Gen, I think they're panic attacks, I'm Sorry, Mary Sue character, Mentions of past abuse, My First AO3 Post, Not sure how to tag but here goes, Original Characters - Freeform, Panic Attacks, Self-Insert, Sexual Abuse, bobby is awesome, gabriel is really cool too, i'm sorry my tags suck, it's what happens to me when I get really anxious or panicky, like really really sorry, lots of fluff, my character makes pie at some point, sam and dean make awesome big brothers, underage sexual situations mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-04 11:22:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 36,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11554158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enby_In_Fandom/pseuds/Enby_In_Fandom
Summary: Diane never expected to end up here, in the warm hug of one of her favorite characters. She never expected to be able to share her past, and not be blamed. She surely never expected to find a family..Sam and Dean aren't sure whether or not to trust the strange girl who mysteriously showed up, but quickly find that they are getting attached to her.Diane works through previous issues from home, coping with her abuse and mental state, all the while trying to stop the Apocalypse before it happens, and Gabriel proves to be pretty helpful.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a draft, not a beta'd work. All mistakes are my own.

Smiling, I laid down in bed. Next to me I had my journal, and my laptop with it. I often slept with them next to me in the bed and didn’t really care. Grabbing my favorite pen I clicked it while staring at a blank page of my journal. After a few moments of coming up blank on what to write, I closed the book with a sigh and grabbed my phone from off the charger. Opening the Google Hangouts app I clicked on Marie’s contact. I typed a message telling her I was going to bed early and didn’t have time to watch any Supernatural tonight. With a smile I rolled over and fell asleep with my phone in my hand.

Sam and Dean stood at the foot of Dean’s bed in the motel room. Dean was holding a bag of fast-food in one hand and a pie box in the other while Sam had the drinks but the meal seemed to be forgotten as they stared at the bed.  
“Son of a bitch.” Dean said softly.

I woke up slowly, not wanting to face the day, and the first thing I did when I cracked my eyes was check my phone. Smiling I unlocked it and scrolled through the messages my best friend had sent me while I was asleep. My eyebrows rose at the pictures of shirtless Sam Winchester she’d sent but I smiled appreciatively and chuckled. I threw an arm over my eyes and dropped the phone to my side, rolling over onto my back. Moving my arm I stared at the ceiling in shock. That wasn’t my ceiling. Sitting up I reached to my right blindly, looking for my glasses.  
“Shit!” I yelled, scrambling when I couldn’t find them. “Shit!” I yelled again.  
“Whoa, easy there.” A deep voice said, causing me to emit a short scream.  
I backed up as best I could with my arms and legs flailing. I couldn’t see right and I was starting to get a headache. “Crap.” I groaned, closing my eyes and pressing my fingers against them. “Crap.” I repeated.  
“Hey,” Another voice said softly, from behind me this time and I jumped, cursing again.  
“She’s got quite a mouth on her, that’s for sure.” The first man said.  
“Fuck you!” My voice rose an octave with the exclamation.  
“Calm down, please.” The second voice said. I brought my knees to my chest and rested my forehead against them, taking several deep breaths with my eyes closed.  
“Okay, I’m kinda calm.” I said, more to myself than anyone.  
“Can you tell us your name?” The second man asked.  
“Of course I can tell you.” I snapped. “Doesn’t mean I will.” They didn’t say anything so after a moment I filled the silence. “My name is Diane.”  
“Okay, Diane. I’m Sam, and my brother Dean is here too.” The gentle second voice said. “Can you tell us about yourself?”  
“Sure. My name is Diane Clark, I’m a Libra, I enjoy reading fanfiction and regular fiction, and I love to watch movies like Harry Potter or TV shows like Supernatural. my best friend’s name is Marie. I’m bisexual. I’m from the state of Texas in the United States of America. I am fourteen years old.” I finished, hoping that was enough for them.  
“Well, Diane, how did you get here?” Sam asked, and his voice was still soft.  
“I don’t know! I went to sleep with my phone and laptop and journal and woke up here! Where are my glasses?” I asked, keeping my eyes tightly shut.  
“Do you need them to see? I thought people only wore glasses for reading.” The first man asked.  
“Yes, I need them.” I snapped. “I can’t see without them and I’m getting a headache. I feel exposed.”  
There was a soft pop, then an intake of breath from the men in the room. A second later a familiar pair of frames were being pressed into my hands. “Are these -?” He didn’t get to finish his sentence, though, as I cut him off.  
“Thank God!” I cried, clutching my glasses tightly. I slipped them on, sighing in relief.  
A chuckle made my eyes snap to the source of it. My eyes went wide and I felt the blood drain from my face. No, it couldn’t be. Looking down I realized I actually had my blanket with me. Odd. And there was my journal and laptop. Grabbing my things I held them close to my chest, feeling suddenly very scared, and slightly dizzy.  
“Diane, what’s wrong?” Samuel frickin’ Winchester asked.  
“No, no this is wrong. No. I’m dreaming.” I whispered, shutting my eyes tightly.  
“Diane?” It was Dean Winchester’s voice this time.  
“Dreaming. I’ll wake up soon. I have to.” I said firmly.  
“You aren’t dreaming.” Sam said, and my eyes flew open.  
“I have to be!” I exclaimed. “This… this can’t be real! You don’t exist. None of this does. None of it. No, please no.” I whimpered as I realized I didn’t even know what season of Supernatural I could be stuck in.  
“Calm down, explain what’s going on.” Sam said, and I blinked away the tears pooling in my eyes.  
“How do I explain…?” I murmured to myself. “Er, okay let’s start with this.” I opened my laptop slowly, and pulled up Netflix, logging in and turning the screen to face them.  
“Is that… me?” Dean asked, pointing to the Supernatural picture.  
“Yes, Dean that’s you.” I clicked the show and went to the pilot episode. Pressing play, I sighed. “Y’all were so young..” I said, as it began playing. Their sharp intakes of breath assured me everything was going exactly like I knew. By the time the title Supernatural flashed on the screen they had paused it.  
“What is this?” Dean demanded, and I shrugged.  
“It’s supposed to be a fictional TV show. But apparently I am here. With you. And Sam.” I shook my head. “I feel like I should be doing something. Like trying to figure out what’s going on… Marie!” I exclaimed, grabbing my laptop and clicking away madly.  
“Who?” Sam asked, and they approached me cautiously.  
“Marie. My best friend. She’s a huge fan of the show and if I can get her to help me then I can figure out what season we’re in and what could have put me here!” I said, trying to compose my message in my head.  
“Whoa, whoa, calm down. What if she can't help?” Sam asked.  
I bit my lip and looked up to meet his eyes. “Then we’ll figure out something else. But I have to get back, I have to. My friends, my family… I'm getting back if it's the last thing I do.” I said firmly, turning my attention to the screen again.  
“Hold on don't say that. It may very well be the last thing you do if you say that.” Dean interjected.  
I shook my head and fixed my hair. It sucked that I didn't have all my clothes, and stretching my leg I realized I'd fallen asleep with no bottoms on except my panties. Blushing I jerked my leg back to me under the covers.  
“What?” Sam asked, noticing my blush and the jerk of my leg. I shook my head violently. “What?” He asked insistently.  
“Did it have to be while I was asleep?” I implored. “I mean why couldn't it have been while I was awake? So that I could have something on.”  
“What do you mean? Don't you sleep in shorts or something?” Dean asked, looking at me askance.  
I blushed bright red and looked down. “I don't. I sleep without bottoms.” I was sure that my face would catch fire.  
“Oh.” Dean looked somehow both impressed and grossed out.  
I didn't risk glancing at Sam, until he asked. “What size do you wear?”  
“Why?” I asked incredulously.  
“Because I'm going to get you a pair of jeans.” He said, raising his eyebrows.  
“18 wide.” I mutter, keeping my eyes down. “And I don’t have shoes.”  
“Make a list of everything you need and I’ll get it for you at the store. If it’s clothes be sure to include sizes.” Sam said, handing me a piece of paper and a pen.  
I wrote shoes and at least two outfits before pausing to think. I needed a hairbrush, toothbrush and toothpaste, deodorant, perfume and a few other hygiene things.  
“You’ll have to make two trips, but I have a list.” I said, handing it over.  
“Perfume? Is that necessary? And what is ‘assorted hygiene’?” Sam asked, looking at the list.  
“Yes, perfume is necessary and the other is something you would know nothing about.” I said, giving him a look.  
He still looked confused but nodded. “I’ll get one pair of jeans and the shoes you can pick out the rest.” He said, and I nodded in agreement.  
After the door closed behind him, Dean faced me. “What is ‘assorted hygiene’ and why are you keeping it from my brother?” He demanded.  
I felt myself blush, and cleared my throat a little. “It’s feminine products, like tampons. Not something either of you would have experience with.” I said, not meeting his gaze.  
“Oh.” Dean said, before moving to the TV. “What do you want to watch?”  
“Honestly?” I asked. “I want to watch the next seasons of Supernatural on my laptop. But seeing as how that would creep you out then I won’t. So whatever’s on cable is fine.” I said, smiling lightly.

Sam Winchester was trying his best, he really was. Getting women’s jeans was a bit hard though since he was a man who had no experience shopping. Finally he gave up, and just stood there, with his puppy face on till a saleswoman came over to him.  
“Can I help you?” She asked in a pitying voice.  
“Yeah, I’m doing some shopping, for my sister, and I am so lost. I know her sizes but…” He trailed off, shrugging and smiling slightly.  
The woman threw her head back and laughed. “What are you looking for? Maybe I can help.” She asked.  
“Ah, okay. She’s size 18 wide in jeans, but she needs some shoes too and there she’s, uh,” He consulted his paper. “Size 8 ½.”  
“Well, that’s not too hard. Come on, let’s get her some clothes.” The lady said, and lead him over to a rack of jeans. Within seconds he was holding multiple pairs and protesting that she only needed one pair.  
“She’ll be back to pick out clothes but in her current situation I have to do some shopping for her.” he explained, hanging all but one pair up. The woman eyed him carefully before leading him over to the shoe department and finding a pair of sneakers. When she had made sure that he had all he needed, Sam was finally able to escape. Sitting in the Impala after checkout he braced himself against the steering wheel. How did girls like shopping? It was a nightmare!

Twenty minutes after he had left a very exhausted Sam stumbled through the door to the motel room. I made sure my blanket was secured around my waist before climbing out of the bed. The quilt trailed behind me as I made my way towards the white and blue Walmart bags he was holding, but I didn’t care. I snagged the bags from Sam before he even said anything and escaped to the bathroom. I put the toilet seat down and sat down on it, digging through the bags. Pulling out the jeans I dropped the blanket and pulled them on gratefully, thanking the heavens that they weren’t immodest. The light blue went well with my white and blue shirt and I smiled, pulling my hair down I combed it with the wide-toothed comb on the counter before parting and styling it. I cleaned the sleep from my eyes and splashed some water on my face before patting it dry on a towel. When I was done, and I looked somewhat presentable, I folded my blanket and walked out of the bathroom. I pulled the shoes and socks from the bag and pulled them on, smiling.  
“Well, did I get the right thing?” Sam asked after a moment. I looked up at him from where I was tying my shoes.  
“Yeah, you did great.” I said. “Most importantly, these jeans match my shirt and that is what matters to a girl. Well, a normal girl.” I amended.  
“So you’re normal?” Dean asked.  
“Far from it,” I laughed. “A lot of the girls I know aren’t bi, and wouldn’t watch SPN if their lives depended on it.”  
“SPN?” Sam asked.  
“It’s short for Supernatural.” I explained. “I use it a lot.”  
He nodded, and went for the keys again. “Dean, I’m taking her to get the rest of the stuff on the list, you coming or going?”  
Dean looked longingly at the TV and I had to keep from gagging as I knew well enough what he was thinking.  
“Dude, come on.” Sam said, reading the look too. “You can do that in the shower. For now we have a young girl staying with us.” He reprimanded.  
I made a face and tucked my phone into my pocket. With a sigh, Dean walked over to join us.  
“Alright, let’s go.” He said, and I smiled, thinking of the shopping ahead of us.  
In the car, Sam looked at me in the rear-view mirror. “Why would anybody enjoy shopping?” He asked me.  
“Because it’s fun. It lets you try on clothes and pick out your wardrobe and when you’re done, you’re self-esteem is higher than ever.” I said simply. “Besides, how can somebody not enjoy shopping?” I asked.  
“I don’t like it.” Sam complained and I laughed. Just then we rounded the corner and my eyes went wide. Finally, we were here!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not a beta'd work, all mistakes are my own.

I pretty much abandoned them, heading straight to the underwear section. With a grin, I picked out a the cheapest bra and a package of underwear I could find in my size before moving to the regular clothes where they were waiting. I browsed jeans and tops carefully, finally settling on a dark blue shirt and a pair of black jeans. Putting them in the buggy, I led the way to the hygiene section of the store. I stopped at the pharmacy first and picked up a bottle of ibuprofen, ignoring their questions. After that I moved to regular things, like deodorant and shampoo. Then I left the buggy, instructing at least one of them to stay with it. Sam followed me, of course. He didn’t expect me to be picking out tampons and pads though, and backed away hurriedly, much to my amusement.  
  
When I was done with soaps, I moved to hair things. I spent fifteen minutes trying to find a hairbrush and scrunchies while listening to Dean go on and on about how I needed to hurry up. Finally, I put on my best bitch-face glare and and turned it on him.  
  
“Look, I’m the one who has to use this on my head till the damn thing falls apart, not you, so shut up already.” I snapped, turning back to the selection at hand. I heard Sam stifling his snickers and was glad my back was to Dean he couldn’t see my smirk. I settled on an oval brush with a black and purple handle, and a package of black scrunchies. At the checkout, I winced at the price, but Sam just paid without saying anything. I knew everything would be expensive but I’d tried to keep it cheap.  
  
In the Impala, Dean twisted around to glare at me. “Were you trying to break the bank?” He demanded.  
  
“No!” I protested. “I knew it would be expensive but I tried to keep it cheap.” I said, looking hurt, and ducking my head to look at him through my lashes. I put my bottom lip out a little, and blinked at him. He sighed, and shook his head.  
  
“You’ve got a decent puppy dog face but you should get Sammy to help you perfect it.” He said, cranking Baby up.  
  
I grinned and twisted the rings on my fingers as I stared out the window. Chewing on the inside of my lip, I found myself staring at my rings as my mind wandered. Someone calling my name brought my back to earth.  
  
“Diane? Earth to Diane?” Sam asked, staring at me.  
  
I jerked a little, swallowing and taking a deep breath. “Yes?” I asked, clearing my throat.  
  
“What’s wrong?” He asked, frowning.  
  
“Nothing, nothing.” I shook my head. “Why?”  
  
“I was asking you about your rings, you were lost in your own head. Are you sure you’re okay? You look upset.” He persisted.  
  
“Just remembering some stuff. These rings,” I held up the matching rings on my right hand. “Are part of a three-ring set that belonged to my Memaw. I have yet to find the middle ring. Now this one,” I held up the two golden feathers that formed that ring I was wearing on my left hand. “This was given to me by Marie, a present.”  
  
“Marie, your friend?” He asked.  
  
“The very same.” I said, nodding. “Yeah, I was just was remembering.” I shrugged.  
  
“Yeah, do you remember your Memaw very well?” Sam asked.  
  
I nodded, smiling slightly. “Yeah, I do. She was great, she - ” I cleared my throat. “She used to make cookies, and she would crochet. She wasn’t a normal ‘grannie’ though. No, she survived off of cereal, bananas, muffins, and yogurt. She loved to watch stuff like Dancing With The Stars. I remember her watching it with me. I remember, we would watch, The Secret of Roan Inish together whenever I stayed the night. I miss that frickin’ movie.” I swiped my eyes, feeling them flood with tears. I drew in a shaky breath, trying to steady myself. “God, I miss her.” I said.  
  
“Yeah,” Sam nodded, and watched me compose myself. “I bet she’d be proud of you.”  
  
I nodded jerkily and trained my gaze on the passing buildings. After a moment Sam twisted back into face-forward position. Back in the motel room, he headed straight to the paper covered table.  
  
“So Sam.” Dean said, drawing our attention. “Got any leads on what might've put her here?”  
  
“None yet, it hasn't been that long. Give me some time.” He said, shuffling papers.  
  
“What seems most likely?” The older brother asked.  
  
“Well, as far as I know the only things with this much power would be either a Trickster-”  
  
“Trickster?” I asked. “Like - wait never mind.” I said, shaking my head.  
  
“What?” Sammy asked, watching me.  
  
“Like Gabriel. Y’all didn't kill him you know. He wouldn't let himself be killed that easily.”  
  
“Who?” Dean asked, stepping forward.  
  
“Gabriel.” I repeated. “Oh yeah, you'd know him better as a Trickster. More importantly, the one you guys ran into and had to call Bobby for help with.”  
  
“Oh, him. We killed him, he's dead.” Dean said.  
  
“No,” I drug the word out like I was speaking to a small child. “He's smarter than that. He made a copy of himself and that's what you killed. The original him is still alive and just as tricky as ever.”  
  
“If, if, it's a Trickster, why? Why you, why us, why now?” Sam asked and I shrugged.  
  
“It may not even be Gabriel.” I said, pulling the tags off of my new clothes.  
  
“Well I guess I'll keep searching.” Sam said, giving me an exasperated look. I gave a tiny shrug and finished taking the tags off my clothes. Opening my laptop I saw an email from Marie, as well as several Hangouts messages.  
  
“Diane where are you? Your parents say you aren't home.”  
  
_“Diane?” ___  
  
_“Hello?” ___  
  
_“Diane?!” ___  
  
_“Did you run away?!” ___  
  
_“Diane talk to me!” ___  
  
_“That's it I'm messaging your alternate emails!” ___  
  
I switched accounts and saw she had indeed begun messaging at least one of them.  
  
_“Hey, did you run away?” ___  
  
_“Diane?” ___  
  
_“Dang it Diane answer me.” ___  
  
I smiled a little and typed a quick reply.  
  
_“Calm down. No, I didn't run away but it's a long story.” ___  
  
_“WELL TELL ME ALREADY!” ___  
  
_“Don't call me crazy because you asked for this…” _I said, before proceeding to type out what had happened.__  
  
_“I went to sleep like normal in my bed, with my journal and laptop in bed with me like normal. And when I woke up, I was in a strange place. I don't know, it's a motel I think. But… Marie. There are two men here. Sam and Dean Winchester. I'm not lying to you. I am here with THE Sam and Dean we've daydreamed about. I guess there really are monsters out there. But listen, we’re trying to figure out how I got here in the first place so we can figure out how to get me back.”_  
  
She didn't say anything and I shook my head. She would think me crazy, of course. After what seemed to be hours of waiting, the screen finally lit up with her response. _“Whoa, are you serious? That’s insane! You’re so lucky. Give Dean a kiss for me” ___  
  
In spite of the entire crazy situation, I smiled at the screen. I knew she would believe me.  
  
“What did she say?” Dean leaned forward in an attempt to look over my shoulder, but I quickly shielded it from view, knowing Marie would be mortified if Dean actually saw her message. He raised an eyebrow but said nothing. The screen lit up again.  
  
_“Okay, as to what could have gotten you there… I’m definitely thinking angels. Possibly the Trickster. But wait, what season are you in? Because if it’s six or ten you need to get out of there” ___  
  
I grimaced, typing a reply.  
  
_“I don’t know… how do I tell? Just ask what case they solved last and then ask you?” ___  
  
_“Yeah, try that.” ___  
  
_“Really? O-kay…”_ I looked up from the computer to the boys, who were watching me.“Um,” I ran my fingers through my hair. “I need to know what the last case you solved is.” I said.  
  
“The last case we worked was a shifter in Milwaukee, Wisconsin,” Sam answered, “It got into a bank and killed at least three people before we managed to stop it. But we did stop it,” he reassured me.  
  
“Yeah, uhm, I remember.” I ran my fingers through my hair again. “That’s the last one you worked?” I nodded to myself before turning to the laptop again. _“The last case they worked was in season two, episode twelve, Night Shifter. Shape-shifter gets into a bank and kills like three people. We meet FBI Agent Henricksen? Remember?” _I hit send and bit my lip.__  
  
_“ ‘I like him, he says okie-dokie’. How could I not remember? Okay, so you’re mid-season two, which means angels aren’t even in the picture yet. Well, the Trickster is, but they don’t know he’s the archangel Gabriel. You think it’s him?” ___  
  
_“Maybe. I mean, would Gabriel enjoy sticking a teenage girl with Sam and Dean to watch them squirm? They have no experience whatsoever with young women lol.” _I smiled fondly at the mention of my favorite archangel, or as I liked to call him, a five foot concentration of sass and candy__  
  
_“Yeah, he definitely would find that hilarious. But if that’s the case how are you going to get back? I mean, there are obviously ways to summon him, but Cas isn’t even around for another two years so they know nothing about angels of any kind.” ___  
  
I felt like I was going to be sick. _“You’re right. I’m just as lost as they are too. And they think he’s dead, which really doesn’t help me. I know I told them he was alive but they would have to see it with their own eyes for them to believe and I have a feeling he won’t just show himself.” ___  
  
I shook my head and hopped out of the bed, heading over to the fridge for a can of soda. What I didn’t expect was Dean to snag my laptop. Turning around, I choked on my drink as I saw him smirking at the screen of my personal computer.  
  
“Hey!” I exclaimed, spewing Sprite everywhere. “That’s private!”  
  
He chuckled. “She wants to kiss me?”  
  
I blushed bright red on Marie’s behalf and stalked forward to grab my laptop. “And what if she was giving me advice on how to kill you? Hmm? Or maybe telling me how to summon a demon so I could just hand you over to dear old Yellow Eyes?” I asked, leveling a glare at him.  
  
He was on his feet in an instant, all traces of humor gone. “How the hell do you know about Yellow Eyes? Is he on that show too?”  
  
“It’s all on the show, Dean. All of it. Even that night in Sam’s nursery.” I said, casting my eyes away as I spoke the last sentence.  
  
“Are you kidding me?” Sam asked incredulously. “Why would anyone want to watch that?”  
  
“Because in my world, there is no such thing as ghosts, or shape-shifters or demons. And most of it is pretty awesome. I mean you guys kick ass, not to mention you’ve got good looks to go with it. And of course, the family drama. Heck the drama is most of the reason why people watch it in the first place. John goes missing, there is obviously more to the story of Sam going off to college, Dean is a lot more insecure than he lets on, blah, blah, blah. That’s why people watch it.” I said, naming a few things about the show. “I’m sorry though, I shouldn’t have brought it up.” I turned back to my laptop, fiddling with the little rubber thing that was coming loose on the side of it.  
  
Marie had messaged me again. _“What are you going to do?” _With a sigh, I turned back to the boys, who seemed to have been stunned into silence.__  
  
“What am I going to do?” I asked them. I was frustrated, tired, and cranky. If it was Gabriel, he had chosen the perfect - heavy sarcasm - time of the month to kidnap me. I threw my hands in the air a little, feeling myself go a little bit crazier. I picked up the laptop.  
  
_“I’m going to cry. I’m going to scream and pull my hair and cry because I am scared shitless. I am afraid I will never find my way home, and that I’m stuck in an alternate universe with two men who don’t know jack squat about girls, or my world, or me.” _I typed it, tears pooling in my eyes. Part of me knew this was a mood swing but I just grabbed my laptop and phone and soda and made a beeline for the bathroom. Shutting the door, I put everything down and took a seat on the floor. Letting the tears flow, I just cried out my frustrations.__  
  
I heard my laptop go off again, and through the haze of tears I peered at the screen. _“Hey, calm down. Breathe.” ___  
  
_“No.” ___  
  
_“You will find a way home. It might not be easy, but these are the damn Winchesters we’re talking about. They may know jack squat about girls, but if anyone can find a way to get you home, it’s them.” ___  
  
_“Yeah, I guess.” _I sniffled, and vaguely heard someone knocking on the door.__  
  
“Diane, will you come out?” It was Sam.  
  
“Yeah, give me fifteen minutes.” I called, and stood to wash my face. Seeing the splotches on my skin and red eyes didn’t help my mood much, but the cold water calmed me down some. When I was finally ready to face them, I slowly opened the bathroom door. I sat back down on the bed, watching them the same way they were watching me; warily.  
  
Finally, I sighed. “What? You gonna ask why I barricaded myself in the bathroom?” I snarked, then hung my head. I was in no position to be smart with them. “Look, I’m sorry. But I’m confused, lost, and my hormones are really screwed up right now so I’m dealing with mood swings too.” I swallowed around the lump in my throat, and glared at my hands.  
  
“Diane, listen I know you’re scared,” Sam said, moving to kneel in front of me. He took my hand and held it comfortingly. “But you need to trust us. We’ll do whatever we can to help you. Now, will you tell us why you ran to the bathroom?” He asked gently.  
  
“It was a mood swing. My period is due soon, and between that and waking up here, I’m not very emotionally stable.” I shook my head gently. It was probably best not to mention my heart-rate was through the roof because Sam frickin’ Winchester was holding my hand. I shivered, wishing suddenly that my brother was here.  
  
At the thought of him, I choked up, feeling a hole open in my chest. Tears welled in my eyes and spilled down my cheeks in hot trails, making me gasp for breath. “S-Sam.” I choked out, wishing for all my heart that my brother was here, protecting me, shielding me from whatever dangers.  
  
“Hey, I’m here,” the hunter in front of me said softly.  
  
“Sam!” I cried, jerking my hand away and pressing it to my chest, just over my heart. “Oh God, Sam.” I whimpered. “I want my brother. Please, I want my brother. Sam.” A strangled cry escaped my throat, and I curled in on myself, trying to ease the pain in my chest. "Sam. Sam,” I whispred, trying to contain myself. Trying to contain the pain I felt spreading through my heart.  
  
Someone was holding me, rocking me back and forth. The tears didn’t stop, and I couldn’t keep myself from curling into the plaid-covered chest I was leaning against. Was someone singing? Maybe that was in my head. I didn’t know. I fell asleep, thoughts of my brother making my chest ache.  
  
_He was pushing my swing while Momma made my bottle. The swing was electric and you had to wind it up for it to swing. Momma was making my bottle and the swing had stopped. Sam was pushing me so I wouldn’t cry._  
  
_I had crashed my bike, and my knees were skint. He had come running over to me, making sure I wasn’t bleeding, or hurt. I was surprised at him. I had thought he would just keep playing with his friends. ___  
  
_Some snot-nosed little neighborhood jerk had thrown a basketball in my face when from three feet away. I had stalked away, back straight, and head held high even though tears were quickly filling my eyes. I made it all the way to a building I was able to step behind before they hit my cheeks. I called Sam, voice trembling. ___  
_“Hello?” He sounded tired. ___  
  
_“He threw a basketball in my face.” My voice was raspy, and wavering. I was pretty sure Sam could hear the tears. ___  
_“I’m on my way.” His voice was hard and full of determination. ___  
  
_Not fifteen minutes later I saw him and Scotty, his friend, walking up the road to where I was. He had to have been thirty feet away from the bullies when he raised his fist and pointed. “You.” He said angrily. ___  
  
_I watched as my big brother threatened to beat the shit out of the little bastard if he ever laid a hand on me again. It struck me, how my brother would do anything for me. He told me later that as soon as he had hung up he had turned to Scotty and said “I’m gonna fuck someone’s world up.” ___  
  
_We were sitting down, working on a song together, The Pain Gone. He had his guitar and we were just being there. I watched his brilliant musician’s mind work it’s magic while letting my writer's mind work it’s own version. I did lyrics he did melody. I felt something warm in my chest and knew it to be love, love for this crazy, protective, probably unstable boy that was - is - my brother. ___


	3. Chapter 3

I woke up from the memories I had dreamed of, and blinked. I was lying in the bed, and someone had put a blanket over me. I sat up slowly, looking around.

“Hey, are you okay?” Sam asked, sitting on the side of the bed, watching me intently, concern in those beautiful, ever-changing eyes.

“Uh,” I cleared my throat, squinting as I really woke up. “Yeah. I am now.” My dream came back to me and I reached for my journal. I grabbed the pen that was hooked in the pages and clicked it, flipping to a clean page.

**So, this is about as weird as things get. I woke up in Sam and Dean Winchester’s motel room. Like the Sam and Dean from SPN. Yeah, weird. I am not insane I swear. Marie believes me when I say that I am here. So… Yeah.**

“Diane?” Dean’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “Hey, talk to us. What happened back there?”

“We want to help you,” Sam said.

“I, uh, I just. Sam is my brother. Samuel Clark. He’s the best big brother anyone could have. God I have to get back. I can’t leave him. He means way too much to me. He is always there for me and I - I have to get back to him.” I said, clearing my throat around the lump forming. “I miss him so much.”

Sam cleared his throat. “Yeah. Believe me, I definitely understand how you feel about that, probably more than anyone.” Moving a bit closer to me, he placed a hand on my arm. It was warm and comforting, and I sighed softly, still unable to believe that I was here, in this universe, with the freaking Winchesters.

I nodded and stared at my hands, a smile turning up the corners of my lips. “So, you were saying yesterday that it was either a Trickster or a …?” I trailed off in question, looking at him.

“Or a demon.” He sighed. “It would have to be a really powerful demon. I mean we’re talking-”

“Talking crossroads power. But imagine it times ten, or a hundred.” I said, grimacing. “I only know of a few demons with that power and y’all haven’t met any of them. Yet,” I amended.

“Yet?” Dean asked, looking alarmed.

I snorted. “Yes, yet. You should know that if there is a show about you two then you are bound to get in trouble. And y’all already have demonic connections so why not piss off the worst of the demons in hell?” I smiled brightly, taking their horrified expressions into account even as I did so. I picked up my journal again, and my pen.

**Last night I had a breakdown. Thinking of Sam, my brother, caused it. I dreamed of him last night. It was memories. One of them was just something I knew from stories, but it was still nice. I suppose I’ll have to keep track of everything that’s going on right now, but if I do that here than it will take up way too much space and my wrist would cramp. So I guess I’ll do it on the computer. I’m using my alternate email, Violet Gardens to talk to Marie, so I guess I’ll just make a Google Docs on that account to keep track of it all. Honestly I’m kinda surprised at how well Sam and Dean are handling a fourteen year old girl just showing up unexpectedly. I mean… I would sure as hell panic. But then again I am not a Winchester and I do not have the connections they do. I wouldn’t be surprised if they have already called Bobby - Oh my holy mother of sin and fanfiction and everything else save us. What if they read my journal? I think I might be sick.** My stomach turned as I flipped to the very last pages. Oh gods they did not need to see what was back here. I turned back to the entry I was working on. **I can’t see any trace they have but omg if they have I will be sick. If Dean confronts me on what is in the back of this thing… uh oh. I might actually throw up.**

“Hey, you feeling okay?” Sam asked. He must have noticed that I was pale and shaky, and possibly green too.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” I said, knowing my cheeks were probably an interesting mixture of red and green. I closed my journal and kept it close, reaching for my glasses. I hadn’t put them on already because I was still laying down, but I did now. I hated relying on these so much but at the same time, I loved them. They made me look smart.

With a chuckle, I dragged myself out of bed and slunk over to the bathroom. I grimaced, grabbing my hairbrush hurriedly. Unfortunately, brushing didn’t help it very much I glared at the offending mop for a moment, before pulling it up into a ponytail and moving my laptop to the desk.

If it was Gabriel, I needed to know as much about the archangel as possible. Google was a big help, and I quickly found out which episodes of Supernatural he was in and I smiled as I clicked on Netflix. No better way to learn than to watch him work. And unlucky me just so happened to be in the middle of an episode, with my earbuds in, when I heard a muffled “Holy shit.”

Hitting the pause, I twisted to see Dean behind me, watching the episode over my shoulder. My attention shifted to the other Winchester, who was also watching.

“Am I scaring you?” I asked sarcastically and Dean quickly hid a stunned expression,

“No! I'm not scared of something like that. I deal with death regularly, but, umm, when does that happen?”

“Season three, episode eleven.” I said promptly. “Mystery Spot. It’s the Trickster. I’m watching all of his episodes, trying to see if there’s anything I can glean from them as to why he would do this.”

Sam nodded, and I gave them an awkward smile. “I’m kinda assuming you don’t want to watch Dean die in several crazy, violent ways?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. Before either of them could respond, a sharp ache made me wince and double over in pain.

I clenched my muscles, gritting my teeth as I pressed my hands against my womb, internally cursing my period. I stood, and stumbled over to the bedside table where I’d put the ibuprofen, and shook two of the small pills into my hand. I downed them quickly with a swallow of water from a nearby bottle, although I didn’t know whose it was. After I put it down, I sank onto the bed, hands still pressed against my waist.

“That was my water.” Sam said, pointing to the bottle. I glared at him, still gritting my teeth with pain.

“Damn!” I exclaimed, bending over and trying to alleviate the pain. I was panting by now, tears pricking my eyes. I took several deep, shaky breaths and tried to calm myself down but it didn’t work very well. Someone’s shadow fell over me, and I knew one of the boys was standing there, probably worried.

I stood suddenly, knowing I really didn’t want to bleed in these underwear, and made my way to the bathroom. The pain was subsiding, and I carefully sank onto the toilet so I could deal with my hygiene.

Upon coming back from the bathroom, I found both men staring at me in worry, and a little wariness.

“Menstrual cramps.” I said, but they didn’t look very reassured. Sighing, I went back to my laptop, staring at the frozen picture of the boys in that stupid diner. I shook my head and closed the Netflix tab, only to stare at my Google Hangouts in shock.

_“Hey, my mom found out everything. How both of us are bi, me watching SPN, the shirtless - and more than shirtless - pictures, all of it. I don’t have any more electronics and won’t for a while. I mean like my mom is saying that by the time my grounding is over Elliot’s handwriting will be perfect. I’m going to miss you. Also, whatever happens, know that I’m waiting on you to come home. I’m going to clear this entire hangouts history so my mom doesn’t find it. She doesn’t know this is your alternate, so I’m trying to keep you safe. Good luck, and please come home safe, okay?”_

_“I will. I’ll come home. Somehow. Think of me everyday, don’t forget to write down little things you’d tell me so that when I get home I can read it all. Thanks. See you at some point in the future.”_

I shook my head as I stared at my laptop screen. Sam read it out loud over my shoulder, and I shook my head again.

“That was my best resource for getting home. Marie was my best shot for outside advice. Now, I am well and truly stuck in my very own episode of Supernatural.” I said bitterly, breath hitching slightly.

“Calm down.” Dean said and I closed my eyes, taking several deep breaths.

“I'm gonna go pick up some lunch, burgers okay?” Sam asked in the silence that followed.

“Yeah, yeah sounds good.” I muttered, reaching for my phone.

“Dean, extra onions and bacon?” Sam asked as he grabbed his wallet and the keys to the Impala.

“You know me too well, Sammy.” He chuckled, flipping back onto his bed and grabbed the remote.

“Diane? What do you want on your burger?”

I closed my eyes, taking some calm in repeating my usual order. “Mayo, no onion, cheese. Large fries and and a Dr Pepper to drink.” I said, smiling a little.

“Wow, can you eat all that?” Dean asked, glancing at me.

“Yeah, why?” I asked, giving him an insolent glare.

He just chuckled at me, shaking his head. Sam glanced between us with an amused look before heading out. I relaxed as I laid down, my exhaustion catching up with me and driving me into the black oblivion of sleep.

When I woke up, I was standing in the middle of my room. I looked around in shock, and it took me a moment to register the shakiness of the walls, the way edges blurred.

“Hel-lo Diane.” A cheerful voice said.

I spun to see Gabriel leaning against my doorway, sucking on a lollipop. I narrowed my eyes at him, wondering what he was up to.

“Gabriel,” I said in greeting, glancing around again. “What am I doing here?”

“Well I figured you’d need some stuff from home sweet home, so here you are.” He said, watching me expectantly.

“What, I just pack it and you snap it over?” I asked, looking at him dubiously. It didn’t seem likely that the Trickster would just be this merciful.

“Yep.” He said, popping the sucker back into his mouth.

“What’s the catch? You usually aren’t so… kind.” I said, not moving from my spot.

He shrugged. “What can I say, you seem like the kinda influence those muttonheads need.”

“What happens if I tell them about the Apocalypse, Lucifer, the big prizefight between the two eldest archangels?” I asked, moving to pick my backpack up off the floor.

“Well, I can smite you.” Gabriel said casually.

“What if I pray to Michael, tell him I know how to stop the Apocalypse?” I asked, dumping out my books and folders.

“If he listens is all up to him.”

I pushed the papers off the bed and put a basket of clean clothes on it instead. “Hmm.” Was all I said, grabbing all my pairs of jeans and tossing them to one side of the bed. I grabbed undershirts, my normal T-shirts, and my favorite plaid, tossing them on top of my jeans before turning to get my underclothes. When I had clothes in a pile, I turned to look at everything else, making a list in my head.

“Deodorant, perfume, jewelry - my rings - and my makeup.” I muttered, grabbing each thing as I said it. When I finished, I paused for a moment before reaching into the top drawer of my dresser and pulling out my bag of chocolate chips. I placed it on the pile and went to the bathroom, grabbing my contacts and contacts supplies. I was surprised to see a box of contacts for when I tore one or needed a new pair, and turned to look at Gabriel.

“I knew you’d need them.” He said with a shrug.

I shook my head disbelievingly and grabbed it all before heading to the living room where I’d left my sunglasses. When I finally had everything in a big pile on my bed, I packed it.  
The jeans and underwear fit into my backpack with my phone and laptop charger, and the rest of it went into the small, pink suitcase I had under my bed. When I finished with the big stuff, I went to my nightstand, digging through the huge pile of jewelry. I pulled out the ring that looked exactly like the one in a book I’d written, and the others as well. Pushing them into my pocket, I stood, looking at the angel.

“When can I come home for good?” I asked.

He didn’t say anything but instead smiled and snapped his fingers. With a jolt I realized we were standing in front of a drive through ATM.

“Your parents think you took your card with you, so they’ve been depositing money into your account hoping you’ll make a withdrawal or use your card. You’ve got a little over a hundred dollars right now. As soon as you’ve got the cash I’m snapping you and your stuff back to the boys.” He said.

I nodded, biting my lip before getting the money from the machine we were standing in front of.

“I’ll see you,” He said, pausing for a split second. “Later.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not a beta'd work, all mistakes are my own.

I sat bolt up-right with a deep gasp, sucking air into my lungs.

“Whoa, you alright?” Dean asked, sitting up to look at me from the other bed.

I panted eyes darting about as my brain tried to process what had just happened. “Fine,” I muttered, looking over at the cheap desk in the room. It had my backpack on it and my suitcase under it. The rings and cash were piled neatly under the bedside lamp.

“Hey guys I’m ba-” Sam pushed open the door and paused, looking at me. “Whoa, you alright?” He asked.

I nodded, standing. “The Trickster. It’s the Trickster.” I said, closing my eyes to steady myself.

“How can we be sure?” Dean asked.

“He visited me in a dream.” I said, shivering a little. “He took me home, told me to pack what I needed. It’s all over there on the desk.” I said, opening my eyes to watch Sam cross the room and set down the takeout bags.

“Then what’s with the rings and the cash over here?” Dean asked, gesturing toward the nightstand. Sam glanced over at it, approaching. I grabbed the rings quickly, hiding them from sight.

“My parents think I took my card so they kept depositing cash into my account, waiting for me to make a withdrawal or use my card so they could track it. Gabriel and I used the ATM in my hometown, which is probably going to confuse them. I’ve got about a hundred dollars here.” I said.

“And the rings?” Sam asked.

I flushed, fidgeting with the rings in my hands. “This one was a promise ring from my step-dad,” I said, trying to hide my bitterness as I held up a tarnished ring for a moment before setting it down. “This one came with a jewelry set I ordered online,” I set that one down too, staring at the last ring in my hand.

“And the engagement right?” Dean asked, staring at it.

“It’s not an engagement ring and it’s a long story.” I said, sliding it onto my middle finger and then back off.

“We’ve got plenty of time.” Sam said, sinking down to sit beside me.

“Did I tell you I wrote a manuscript? A full seventy-thousand words. Well the day the main character’s father dies, he gives her a ring. It looks almost exactly like this one. I saw it in the store and I had to have it. I couldn’t pass it up.” I said.

“Thought you said it was a long story.” Sam said, shifting.

“Well, it is. I don't have many friends and I never have. When I wrote my book… there's a name for what I was experiencing. Maladaptive daydreaming. It's when an extensive fantasy replaces human interaction.” I said, staring at the ring I was twisting between my fingers.

“So basically you had imaginary friends?” Dean asked.

“They weren't-” I started sharply but stopped and exhaled through my nose furiously.

“What is it?” Sam asked, reaching out to grasp my hand.

“I never had any friends, real friends. I have lost so much in my life and been I’ve been hurt and I just sank into my own head when started writing, and I know Ivy and Ashley and Rose and I know their backstories and I cry over Adrian and Reil and it hurts because these characters are more family than my own family.” I said, trying desperately to rein in my emotions.

We were quiet for a moment.

“Tell us what happened when the Trickster took you home.” Dean said, changing the subject.

“It was like I woke up there. Only edges were blurred and it was all very surreal. And he was there, all smiles and lollipops - literally - and told me to pack up for life with you guys. So I did. And when we were done he snapped us to the ATM where I got the cash, and then he woke me up here.” I said, finally sliding the ring onto my finger.

They nodded, and I stood, moving to my backpack.

“What's that?” Sam asked as I pulled out my green and white contacts case. I dug out my solution bottle and held them in one hand as I grinned, heading for the bathroom.

“Diane?” He called, twisting to watch me walk away.

I didn't answer, and instead I washed my hands and dried them on a hand towel. I could hear them standing in the doorway, but chose to ignore them as I twisted the lid for my left contact case and dipped my finger into the cold liquid to swipe it out. Depositing it on my left palm, I edged it onto the tip of my right pointer finger before using my left hand to hold my eye open. I stared at my finger as it steadily approached my eye, finally pressing against it and putting the contact into place. With a grin I repeated the process with my right eye, and then stood back wiping the tears from where my eyes had watered.

“You… wear contacts?” Sam asked.

“Yep, got ‘em a few weeks before I woke up with you guys. I can't sleep in them, so that's why I haven't had them.” I explained, emptying out the solution and putting the lids back on the case.

“What else do we need to know about you?” Dean asked, raising his eyebrows.

“There's nothing important,” I said, shrugging.

“Well, I'm going to do some research on this Trickster, and then we'll decide what to do tomorrow.” Sam said, heading for the paper-strewn table.

I nodded, plugging my headphones into my phone as I flopped back onto the motel bed. I fell into a trance, staring into space as different thoughts chased around my head, none of them standing out. I sighed, getting up and taking my contacts out so I could sleep. Before I laid down, I offered up a prayer.

_“I pray to the archangel Michael,”_ I started. _“There's some stuff about to happen here on Earth, plans being set into motion. The endgame for these people is Lucifer rising from the Cage, and bringing the about Apocalypse. We need your help to stop it, please. Michael please. Your vessel is the Righteous Man and he's going to die and go to Hell in about a year and half. And he's going to spill blood down there, breaking the first Seal. So help us! Please!”_

I rolled over in the bed, closing my eyes and drifting into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Waking was something I didn’t want to do, but I forced my eyes open, hoping that maybe it had all been a really vivid nightmares.

_“Hey there, Delilah, what’s it like in New York city…”_

I groaned at the lyrics chasing each other around my skull and seriously contemplated smothering myself with a pillow when someone smacked my ankles through the blanket.

“Up and at ‘em!” Dean said, and I withdrew one hand from under the blanket to flip him off before dropping my arm to stretch languorously in bed. Standing, I rubbed sleep from my eyes, shaking my head as I pushed my glasses on, stumbling to the bathroom.

While used the bathroom and put my contacts in, I listened to the boys talking outside.

“Dean, we can’t take her with us while we’re searching for the demon.” Sam insisted.

“Yeah, I know.” Dean said, sounding frustrated. “I think we should take her to Bobby’s.”

“Bobby’s?”

“Yeah, he can take care of her, make sure she’s safe.” Dean said.

“Dean, she has to get back to her home.” Sam said.

“I know, but if she’s right that it is a Trickster, then she needs to be safe. And a motel room or on the road with us isn’t safe. Sam, hunters are supposed to protect people. She has a brother named Sam and I will be damned if she doesn’t get to see him one last time.” Dean hissed, and I paused while I was washing my hands.

There was an answering pause from the younger brother, before he said. “Okay, we’ll take her to Bobby’s. He can teach her the basic stuff to protect herself.”

“Yeah,”

There was a shuffle as they started packing, and I finished putting my contacts in. Coming out of the bathroom, I looked down at my pajamas, and blinked. With a sigh I started to make my way to my backpack, intending to retrieve a pair of jeans and a shirt when I collided with a solid, warm, and bare chest.

Jerking back, I cast an embarrassed glance at Sam before mumbling something about still being asleep and then hurried to get my backpack. I hadn’t thought of the fact they would be changing, and I honestly hadn’t seen him.

When I finally came out of the bathroom, I avoided looking at Sam, trying my best to keep my mind from straying to how warm and firm he’d been. With a groan, I turned and banged my head against the wall gently.

“I sound like Becky.” I groaned, shaking my head.

“Who?” Dean asked, and I jumped in shock.

“You scared the crap outta me!” I said, trying to calm my heart rate down.

“Who’s Becky?” He asked.

“Not anyone you want to know.” I said, going as red as a tomato.

He chuckled and walked out to the Impala, leaving me in the motel room. I felt the pinprick of insecure tears at my eyes, and tilted my head back, trying to blink them away.

“Hey, you okay?” Sam asked, and I blinked a few times as I looked at him.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” I muttered, grabbing my suitcase and shouldering my backpack before making sure I had my phone and earbuds in my pocket.

“Hey,” He grabbed my arm gently as I tried to walk away, and I slowly turned to face him. “Look, we should’ve told you we were going to be changing. Yeah, I know it’s a little embarrassing but there’s no need to cry.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, feeling the familiar tingle spread through my skin, itching for something, some sort of pressure or pain. My eyes widened as I realized something I’d forgotten at home; the marker that I used to draw on myself. “Shit.” I breathed.

“What? What is it?” Sam asked, but I ignored him in favor of pulling my arm from his grasp and held my wrists tightly as the tingling got progressively worse.

I bit my lip as I let my nails drag over the tender skin, leaving red marks in their paths, and when I was done I only felt a little better. I didn’t realize I had done it in front of Sam until he grabbed my wrists and turned them up, looking for scars or signs of self-abuse.

“Diane…” He breathed.

“I have never cut Sam,” I assured him as I pulled my wrists from his grasp, trying to ignore how my body reacted to his strong touch. “Not once.”

He stared at me worriedly, but I gave him a smile and headed out to put my things in the Impala, hoping he won’t tell Dean.

Part of me worried that I’ll never get home, never get to see Marie, and maybe never get to meet my internet Merrida in real life. I pushed my thoughts aside and packed my things into the trunk, careful to put it where if we’re in an emergency that it wouldn’t get in the way of Sam and Dean’s bags.

I smiled as I thought of Crowley calling them ‘denim wrapped nightmares’ and shook my head at exactly how true his statement was. With a sigh, I climbed into the backseat, instantly scooting so that my back was against the passenger side door, and my feet were in the seat.

Plugging in my earbuds, I downloaded some new songs off of iTunes, hoping to chase away the song still on repeat in the back of my head.

I hummed along to an album I remembered my brother having, a smile playing over my lips. I register the sound and rumble of the car starting, but don’t look at the brothers, instead staring out the window contentedly.

I knew content was the last thing I should be, but I was. I rocked back and forth as we drove down the highway, and at some point, I drifted asleep.

When I woke up, the car was pulling into a junkyard I vaguely recognize and it took me a moment to wake up fully. When I did, I groaned and dropped my head back, not wanting to do anything but sleep for the next five days. The cramping in my gut was almost debilitating and I winced as I attempted to climb out of the car after we stopped. I doubled over, grasping the Impala for support as the pain tried to bring me to my knees. I whimpered, focusing on the music in my ears instead of the fire burning in my womb.

_“Honestly, why are my clothes out on the street?_  
_Honestly, I think you’ve lost your mind._  
_I can’t believe I came home to find my car keyed._  
_Honestly, I’m way too tired to fight._  
_Round and round, drama every time.”_

I almost smiled as my brain registers it as _Honestly - Hot Chelle Rae_ , but then someone was talking to me, putting their hand on my shoulder, and I felt nothing but anger, almost fury. Jerking my earbuds out, I finally heard who it was and what they’re saying.

“Diane, are you alright?” Sam asked.

“Do I look alright?” I snarled, lip curling back in anger to bare my teeth.

“Whoa, calm down.” He said, backing up a step. “I’m trying to make sure you’re okay.” He said.

The fight drained out of me and I sank down into the car, curling over my gut.

“Yeah, I know. I just- I want to sleep and be left alone for the next five days.” I said, raking a hand through my hair.

“Is it really that bad?” He asked.

I ran my tongue over my teeth before speaking. “It’s not my first rodeo,” I said, shaking my head. “But it is the first one where I can’t go home.”

He nodded, and I stood, noting that the pain had faded to a dull ache. With a grimace, I grabbed my backpack and followed Sam into the house. I stared at my feet as we walked up to the porch, unable to quell the butterflies in my stomach.

Bobby opened the door, and smiled at Sam and Dean before his gaze landed on me. I looked down, willing my hands to stop shaking.

I wanted to be home. Home, where I could just text Marie and read all day.

“Who’s this?” He asked, and I flinched, still staring at my hands.

“Her name is Diane,” Sam said. “And it’s a long story.”

“Well, come on in,” Bobby said, and I followed Sam and Dean into the house, not meeting his eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not a beta'd work, all mistakes are my own.

“She’s from an alternate universe?” The words themselves sounded ridiculous but when they were said with that tone… I cringed, eyes flitting away from everyone. I hadn’t said a word yet, but Sam and Dean had explained everything.

“Have you two even checked to see if she’s a demon? Or a shapeshifter or any other monster?” Bobby asked, and I bit the inside of my lip to steady myself.

“I’m not a monster.” I said quietly.

They stared at me in shock, and I glanced at Sam before tilting my head down and away.

“Are you alright Diane?” Sam asked, and I shook my head silently. “What’s wrong?” He asked, and I just shook my head again.

“Hey, we can’t help if you don’t tell us.” Dean said, and I sank my teeth further into my bottom lip. It would bleed soon if I put any more pressure on it.

“Diane?” Sam asked, sliding an arm around my shoulder.

“I want to go home.” I whispered, blinking away the tears rapidly pooling in my eyes.

“I know, we’ll get you there.” He assured, but I just shook my head.

“Why do you think they can’t get you home?” Bobby asked.

“Because… Gabriel said that I was the kind of influence ‘those muttonheads’ need.” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t think he’s going to take me home anytime soon.”

Silence followed my statement before Dean said,

“He called us muttonheads?”

I snorted. “Yeah, well, that’s the kinda insult he uses.”

“What kinda insults would you use?” Bobby asked, handing me an open bottle of water. I took it with a note of amusement.

“It’s spiked with holy water?” I asked, taking a grateful drink.

“How did you kn-?”

“You’re a hunter.” I said, setting the bottle down.

“Was it on the show?” Dean asked, and I glanced at him.

“As a matter of fact, yes. He spikes the beer with it too. It’s how he figures out that Meg is possessing S-” I snapped my mouth shut and stared straight ahead, not meeting anyone’s eyes.

“Meg?” Sam asked.

“Meg. She’s… she possesses you at the middle of season two.” I said, taking another drink to avoid talking, even though talking helped me act calm.

“Um, how does she even get in me?” He asked.

I shrugged. “Same way a demon always does. Down the mouth I’m guessing. But chances are you went for a beer or something and she decided you were the best meat suit around.” I was more nervous but their staring caused tsunami of terror and panic wash over me in moments. I closed my eyes, reminding myself that I was safe.

_But what if they kick you out? What if they decide you’re a monster? What if they read your journal and decide they don’t want to deal with you?_

I shake my head violently, trying to get the voice to shut up.

_What if they try and hurt you the way your-_

“Enough.” I said, putting one hand on my temple, trying to calm down.

“Enough what?” Sam asked, and I jumped.

“Sorry, it’s… it’s nothing.” I muttered, lowering my hand absentmindedly to rub my wrists.

Sam caught the motion and pulled my hands apart. “Hey, what’s going on?”

_They’re going to figure out you’re mentally unstable and call you a freak. That’s what you are. A fat, unnatural, ugly freak._

I flinched at the words in my head, and tried to pull my wrists out of Sam’s grasp. “Let me go.” I said, pulling harder.

“Not until you tell me what’s going on.” He said firmly.

I felt a wave of panic rise up in me, and I struggled harder. “Let me go!” I cried, tears forming in my eyes. My brain was comparing this to instances where I was equally helpless, and I fought, thrashing to get away. The panic was overtaking me, and my vision was swimming as I tried to draw in deep breaths.

I couldn’t - wouldn’t let this happen again. I promised myself. I can’t let this happen. Someone was trying to talk to me, but I could only hear the words spoken by my abuser. 

“NO!” I shrieked. “LET ME GO!”

The pressure on my wrists was relieved, only to be replaced by someone holding me. I screamed trying to get away, and finding I was trapped.

_You wanted it. You went to him._

“No, no, no. Not again.” I whimpered, curling in on myself. The grip tightened and I lashed out again, surprising whoever had me. I managed to knock them aside and dashed for the door, only to be caught around the waist by someone else.

I shrieked, trying to get away. “NO!” I yelled. “Noooo!” I felt my stomach heave, and I shuddered, trying to get away.

_Filthy little whore. You wanted it. You went to him._

“No, no, no, no, no, NO!” I yelled, trying to get away.

“Diane!”

I stopped struggling, panting as tears streaked down my face. I collapsed against whoever was holding me, and started sobbing.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I'm sorry,” I whispered. “I hate myself.”

Someone else was holding me now, lifting me and then sitting down.

“What happened?” A man - Bobby, my brain supplied unhelpfully - asked.

“I think she had a flashback, or something.” Sam said, and I felt him sigh.

“So, what? She was abused and you triggered bad memories?” Dean asked.

I shivered, opening my eyes to see a plaid covered chest, and I whimpered.

“Diane?” Sam asked, pulling me slightly away from him. “What happened?”

I rolled my shoulders, not looking at anyone.

“Hey, talk to me.” Sam said, tilting my chin up to look at him. I could only stare at his hazel eyes for a moment before I had to look away again. The same anxiety and fear was roiling down in my gut, and I shivered. When I didn’t say anything, he sighed. “Will you tell me later?” He asked, and I nodded.

“You boys need to get back to searching for the demon, so I’m assuming you want her to stay here?” Bobby asked a few minutes later.

“Yeah,” Dean said, and I closed my eyes.

“Well,” The elder hunter sighed. “The guest bedroom is upstairs. Show her around Sam?” He asked.

“Sure,” Sam said, standing. “Come on,” He beckoned, offering me a hand. I stood, grabbing my backpack off the floor where I had left it.

“Sorry about what happened,” I sniffed as he led the way up the stairs.

“What happened?” He asked.

“I was already nervous, and kinda panicking. My brain and body overreacted to not being able to move.” I said.

“Were you raped?” He asked seriously.

“No, but… it’s a long story.” I said.

“I have time.”

“I was able to leave whenever I wanted but… mentally I was trapped. I couldn’t bring myself to move.” I said, staring at the wall as we slowly ascended the stairs.

“So what happened?”

“First it was him, touching me. Then… when I hit puberty, I went to him. I didn’t know what else to do, and it was my hormones, and all I knew was-”

“Hey, it’s okay.” He cut me off.

“Yeah,” I muttered.

“So when you couldn’t move, it triggered a response?” He asked.

“Normally it wouldn’t have but I was already scared, and…”

“And what?” He inquired.

“And the voice in my head was demeaning me.” I murmured.

He didn’t say anything else, but we continued our trek up the stairs. The spare bedroom was sparsely furnished, with not much more than a bed and dresser. There was a nightstand and a lamp, but that was pretty much it. I put my backpack beside the door, and walked over to the window, grateful that the room had plenty of natural light at least. 

“You were abused, it’s natural you shouldn’t be totally stable. It’s also natural for you to be even more unstable due to having just arrived in an alternate world.” Sam said from the doorway. I turned to look at him, wondering how on earth anyone could be so kind.

“Yeah, I guess.” I said. “Can I go get my stuff out of the car?” I asked.

“Sure, come with me.” He said, and we headed back downstairs. As we descended the stairs, I heard snatches of Dean and Bobby’s conversation.

“... can’t take care of her if she’s mentally unstable.”

“I’m telling you, she’s fine. She’s usually really calm. She just had a panic attack, that’s it.”

“Dean, she’s been abused.”

“How can you tell?”

“The way she kept yelling ‘no’ is pretty big clue. And she fought the hardest when she couldn’t get away.”

I froze on the stairs, and Sam turned to look at me, both of us listening to the conversation.

“Even so, she just needs time to calm down. She’s been here less than a week and it’s just a lot for her. Give her time.”

“Fine,” Bobby sighed.

We continued down the stairs, and I didn’t meet Dean or Bobby’s gaze as we passed them in the living room.

After retrieving my stuff from the Impala, we headed back in, and this time all four of us went upstairs.

“So, do you like the room?” Bobby asked.

“Yeah, it’s great.” I said, smiling a little. “I like the natural light.”

Once we reached the room, we were all a little surprised to see that the bed now held not only my backpack, but the baskets I made in class, and that said baskets were full of trinkets from my home.

“What the hell?” Dean asked, and I stared at the baskets in shock. Approaching the bed, I lifted a note out of the basket closest to me, and chuckled.

_Dearest Diane,_  
_Since you now have a place to stay, I snapped over your trinkets and such._  
_Enjoy!_

“Gabe,” I huffed, tossing the note on the bed. Sam walked over, brow crinkled, and picked it up, scanning it before handing it to Dean and Bobby.

“Gabe?” Bobby asked.

“The Trickster snapped me over here, his name is Gabriel. He’s also known as Loki, or basically any other Trickster god throughout lore. He’s, uh,” I shook my head. “He’s pretty fun really, if you aren’t the one he’s pulling a joke on.”

“Uh huh,” Dean said, throwing the note on the bed. “And he decided to snap your stuff over?”

“Seems like.” I said, pulling out the photos from one of the smaller baskets. I smiled as I filtered through them, pausing on one of them. I stared at the picture for a long time, before I held it out to Sam and Dean.

“Who’s this?” Dean asked. “You’re boyfriend?”

“No,” I said. “That’s my brother.”

“Your brother? You guys don’t even look alike.” He said.

“He looks like our father, I look like my mom.” I said, gently taking the picture back. “I didn’t expect Gabriel to bring this.” I shook my head in awe.

“What else did he bring?” Bobby asked.

“Well, this is all of my jewelry, most of which I will never wear.” I turned, thinking I saw something out of the corner of my eye.

“Amelie!” I cried, grabbing my guitar case from where it was beside the dresser. “Yay!” I laid it down and opened it, staring at the guitar inside with joy.

“Amelie?” Sam asked.

“I named my guitar. Don’t worry, my friend Marie named hers Winchester.” I grinned, taking her out and sinking down onto the bed.

“Winchester?” Dean asked.

“Yep.” I said, playing a few chords.

“As in my family?” He asked.

“Or the gun, whichever.” I replied, strumming absentmindedly as I tried to remember how to form an F.

I heard a chuckle, and looked up at Sam. “Your friend named a guitar after me and my brother?” He asked.

“Yes,” I said, standing and putting my guitar away. “Don’t worry, there are a lot creepier things that have been done.” I said, a corner of my mouth quirking up. 

“Do we want to know?” Dean asked, a hint of fear coloring his voice.

“No,” I said honestly. “You really don’t.”

“O-kay.” He said, and I smiled.

“So, what now? I mean, the Trickster brought me here, put me with you guys for a reason. I just wish I knew what it was.” I said, tilting my head to the side as I tried to organize my thoughts.

“Well, I say we let you get unpacked and then we eat.” Bobby said, and I smiled.

“Well, I can cook. Depending on what you’ve got in the fridge.” I said, raising my eyebrows.

“You can cook?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, I cooked all the time at home. I may be a little rusty on some recipes but I can cook.” I said defensively. How dare he think I don’t cook?  
“Well, perhaps we can finally have some decent food.” He said, perking up.

“You mean homecooked. Diners have decent food but it’s never homecooked.” I said, grabbing my backpack and going over to the dresser. Opening the top drawer, I began methodically unloading my clothes while I listened to Bobby telling me what they had in the fridge, nodding.

“Well, I can make a meal, and a good one, but I’m going to need some stuff from the store.” I said, putting my empty backpack on the floor and moving to my suitcase. 

“What do you need? I’ll get it for you.” Sam said.

“Well, I could make a list but I know for a fact that men never get the right thing. Let me finish unpacking and I’ll go with you.” I said with a smile, chuckling at the offended look on their faces. “What? It’s a scientific fact that men cannot shop. If I made a list you wouldn’t even know where to start.” I said, opening a new drawer of the dresser and piling my shirts in.

After decorating the top of my dresser with the array of baskets, all of which were still full, I turned to them.

“Ready to go?” Sam asked with a smile.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied, grinning. He shook his head, gesturing to the door.

“After you ma’am.” He said with a small bow.

I curtsied in return, “Thank you, kind sir.”

“My pleasure, madam.” He said, and I laughed, throwing my head back. It was a long time since I’d joked around like this.

“What the hell is going on? Why the 15th century talk?” Dean asked, and I turned to deadpan at him.

“I wonder that you will still be talking, Signor Benedict. Nobody marks you.” I said haughtily, waiting to see if someone got my reference.

After a beat, Sam said.

“My dear Lady Disdain, art thou yet living?”

I stifled my giggling, and focused on walking down the stairs while I spoke. “Is it possible Disdain should die when she hath such meet food to feed it, as Signor Benedict? Courtesy itself must convert to disdain if you come in her presence.” I said, remembering when me and my brother had gone over these exact lines for performing.

“Then is Courtesy a turncoat, for it is certain I am loved of all women, only you excepted. And I would I could find in my heart that I had not a hard heart, for truly, I love none.” Sam said, and I smiled happily.

“A dear happiness to women: they would else have been troubled with a pernicious suitor. I thank God and my cold blood, I am of your humor for that. I had rather hear my dog bark at crow than a man swear he loves me.” I said, smirking.

“God keep your ladyship still in that mind! So some gentleman or other shall ‘scape a predestinate scratched face.” He sassed, and I didn’t even pause.

“Scratching could not make it worse, an ‘twere such a face as your were.” I said, shaking my head as I reached the bottom step, moving aside to make room for the men. 

“Well, you are a rare parrot teacher.” Sam said, rolling his eyes.

“A bird of my tongue is better than a beast of yours.” I said, staring at him insolently.

“I would my horse had the speed of your tongue, and so good a continuer. But keep your way, i’ God’s name; I have done.” Sam said, and I threw out the last line.

“You always end with a jade’s trick, I know you of old.”

With that, we stared at one another for a moment before busting out laughing. I gave him a high five, still chuckling.

“Where did you memorize those lines?” I asked.

“High school, we did the play and I auditioned. Didn’t get the part but still. Where did you learn it?” Sam asked.

“My mom did a class on Much Ado About Nothing, I auditioned for and got the part of Hero. My brother played Benedict, so I memorized those lines to help him.” I said, smiling. “It’s been forever since I did a scene from the play.”

“Cool,” He said, nodding.

“What the Hell just happened?” Dean asked, looking between us.

“I made a Shakespeare reference and he got it.” I said. “It’s nice to know that someone around here likes literature.” I said, smiling.

“Same.” Sam said, sounding exasperated, as we headed for the door.

“So… poetry?” I asked.

“I know some,” He said. “What do you know?”

“I’ve read some Emily Dickinson, a little Robert Frost. I’ve read a few others too.” I said.

“Dickinson is good. What’s your favorite that she wrote?” He asked, opening the back door of the Impala for me.

I paused thinking. _“Because I Could Not Stop For Death.”_ I said before sliding in.

“That’s a good one,” Sam said, getting in front while Dean climbed into the driver seat. “What about Frost? Which of his have you read?”

“ _The Road Not Taken_ and _Fire and Ice_ , are the ones I can remember. I actually have _Fire and Ice_ memorized.” I said, smiling as I remembered my brother getting onstage to recite The Road Not Taken.

“Really?” Sam asked, twisting to look at me. “Would you recite it for me?”

“Sure,” I said, blushing a little before clearing my throat and taking a deep breath.

_“Some say the world will end in fire,_  
_Others say in ice,_  
_From what I’ve tasted of desire,_  
_I hold with those who favor fire,_  
_But if had to perish twice,_  
_I think I know enough of hate,_  
_To say that for destruction ice,_  
_Is also great,_  
_And would suffice.”_

I paused after I finished, waiting to see if I had mangled it or not.

“That was beautiful.” Sam said. “You should recite poetry more often.”

“I write it too,” I said. “Occasionally.”

“Really? I’ll have to see some of your work.” He sounded excited.

I shook my head with a smile. “It’s not that great.” I said, meeting his eye.

He just shook his head. “I bet it’s really good.”

“Whatever,” I rolled my eyes as we parked, and we climbed out of the car.

“So, what are you making?” Sam asked as we went in the store.

“Well, me and my mom call them meat cookies.” I said, grinning.

“Meat cookies?” He repeated.

“Yep.” I say, grabbing a buggy and beginning my trek through the store. “I could try an attempt at making homemade gravy but I don’t want to deal with the mess it would make if I failed.” I said, grabbing a package of powdered brown gravy. When we checked out, I had spices, onions, mushrooms, frozen vegetables, a can of biscuits and the gravy. 

Dean had decided to stay in the car, but Sam had accompanied me through the store, seemingly fascinated by the meal I was putting together. 

When we got back, I unloaded the groceries, and headed in the house, smiling all the while. Bobby was in the kitchen, and had some pans on the stove for me. I smiled at him, putting the bags on the counter.

“Want to help with dinner?” I asked, and he nodded. “Good. Will you put the broccoli in the microwave?” I asked, and he stared at me. “It’s frozen, meant to be microwaved.” I explained, pulling out the ground beef and a large bowl. I snagged the spices I’d picked up at the store, and then turned to flip the burner on. Smiling to myself, I opened the meat and dumped it in the bowl, followed by heavy amounts of salt, pepper, garlic powder and onion powder. I washed my hands and took off my rings before I began kneading the meat, much the way you would if you were making meatloaf.

It was then I realized Bobby hadn’t moved to cook the vegetables, and I laughed to myself.

“Tell you what, you go sit down with the boys and I’ll do the cooking.” I said, pulling my hands out of the meat and washing them again before shooing him off.

I put the broccoli in the microwave, pushing in the time and hitting start before grabbing the butter and a bowl for it. I went back to the meat, shaping it into thick patties, and then putting them on a plate so I could count them all. When I was done, I counted twelve patties total, so we could have three each. I started cooking them then, and when the microwave beeped, I took out the bag of vegetables and ripped it open, dumping it into the bowl I had gotten out for it.

I grabbed a serving spoon and stirred the butter in, then turned back to the meat. When I only had a few patties left, I started on the gravy and biscuits, both of which only took a few minutes.

Just as I was flipping the last few cookies, Dean wandered in.

“Smells good.” He said, nosing around, until I smacked at him with a spoon.

“Hands off or I’ll smack you! You can wait until it’s all ready.” I said, moving the gravy to the back burner and I pointed him at the cutting board. “Make yourself useful and start chopping onions.” I ordered, and he looked at me in shock. “Now.” I said.

“I don’t know how to chop onions.” He said, backing away.

“Fine, I’ll do it myself.” I said, pulling the onion, cutting board, and knife to me from across the table. I started chopping, mindful of the fumes and when I’d diced the whole thing, I dumped it in a skillet before starting on the mushrooms.

“You like onions and mushrooms?” Sam asked, wandering in.

“Nope.” I responded. “But you guys probably do so I got them.”

“Huh, thanks.” He said.

“Now, get out of here. I’ll let you guys know when it’s done.” I smiled.

They grumbled on their way out, and I finished cooking in peace.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not a beta'd work, all mistakes are my own.

In the living room, they were all talking. 

“I don’t like the way she went from psycho broken to a cheerful girl who cooks and quotes Shakespeare,” Bobby said. “It makes me wonder what else could happen.” 

“Bobby, she’s been abused. Just give her a chance, you’ll see that she’s actually a good kid. Earlier, she was nervous, and that paired with the fact that she couldn’t move when I grabbed her wrists set off a reaction. That’s it. She’s a normal girl with a bad past.” Sam defended. 

“Come on, just let her stay here a week or two. If it doesn’t work out, we’ll see if we can get the Trickster to snap her home.” Dean said. 

“Fine,” Bobby sighed. “But if this goes south I’m blaming you two.” 

“We know,” Sam said.

They stood in silence for a moment, and then Dean piped up. “Smells good. What did she say she was making again?”

Sam chuckled. “She called them meat cookies.”

“Huh. I think I’ll go see.” Dean said, before disappearing in the direction of the kitchen. 

“Bobby,” Sam started. “She’s trying to be useful, and I think she really wants and needs to learn how to defend herself. I think we should at least teach her how to use a gun.”

“You want to hand that girl a weapon?” Bobby asked incredulously. 

“I think she needs to know how to defend herself. You never know what’s going to happen.” Sam said, glancing at where he’d just heard her threaten Dean with a spoon. “As it is, I think Dean might need to defend himself against her.” He said with suppressed mirth, before moving to the kitchen too, only for him and Dean both to return a few minutes later. 

They stood, talking about teaching her how to use a gun until she called out that dinner was ready. 

 

I finished plating everything up, and called out that dinner was ready. Dean was the first one in the door, and I handed him his plate with a smile. Sam thanked me as he took his but I just smiled and nodded. After handing Bobby his plate, we all sat down.

I noticed they didn’t pray over their food, but I said a silent blessing as I lifted my fork to my mouth. We ate in silence until Bobby spoke up. 

“So, we think we should teach you to use a gun.” He said, and everyone glanced at me as I perked up with a smile. 

“I used to shoot my mom’s pistol on occasion, and I’ve shot my brother’s rifle, but he’s a greedy butt and I only got to shoot it once.” I said. 

“You know how to use a gun?” Dean asked. 

“Point and shoot.” I said, taking a bite of my gravy covered meat cookie. 

“Yeah, but you actually know how to use a gun?” He repeated. 

“It’s been a while so I wouldn’t say I’m perfect, or even decent, but I can use a gun, yes.” I said, staring at him. 

“Huh.” He said, and went back to eating. 

“What kind of gun does your mom have?” Sam asked, and I looked over at him. 

“She’s got a 40 caliber, Smith & Wesson, Shield.” I said, wondering why it was so shocking that I knew how to use a gun. 

“And she let you shoot it?” He asked. 

“More than once.” I said, nodding. “My parents felt that it was necessary to teach us how to properly handle guns, so that we wouldn’t shoot ourselves on accident. Besides, if we needed it at some point I’d need to know how to use it.” 

“Cool.” Dean said, and I gave him a tight smile. 

As we approached the end of the meal, I glanced around. “I am not doing dishes.” I said adamantly. “I cooked.” Dean frowned at me, and I raised my eyebrows at him. “Keep looking at me like that and you’ll be the one doing dishes.” I said, before going to finish my plate. 

“You’re bossy.” Dean said. 

I deadpanned at him. “And so are you. But as it is, I need to take care of my hygiene soon, and when I do that the last thing I’m going to want to do is clean.”

He opened his mouth to ask what I meant about hygiene, but remembered quickly I was on my period and shut his mouth. I smirked my victory as I cleared our plates, dumping them in the sink before escaping upstairs. 

I changed my feminine products out, before heading to my room and grabbing my shower stuff and pajamas. Knowing that I needed a long, hot, relaxing shower, I closed my eyes to get the stressful stuff done for tonight. 

_“I pray to the archangel Michael, like I said before there's some stuff about to happen here on Earth, and it’s all going to lead to letting your little bro out of the Cage. We need your help to stop it, please. Michael please. Your vessel is the Righteous Man and he's going to die and go to Hell soon. And he's going to torture souls down there, breaking the first Seal. So unless you want to kill your brother, I highly suggest getting down here or at least sending some angels down here.”_

I sighed as I finished the prayer, turning on the hot water. As I massaged the shampoo into my hair, I let my mind wander to my guitar, and the many songs I’d written but never had the chance to do the tablature for. 

I smiled, knowing what I was going to be doing the next day, and rinsed my hair, reveling in the way the water flowed down my back. 

After drying off, I scrubbed the towel over my head, drying my hair so that it wouldn’t drip down my back, and then pulled on the shorts and tank top that qualified as pajamas.   
With a lazy smile, I gathered my clothes and shower stuff and went back to my room, knowing that I would get some good sleep tonight. After depositing my dirty clothes in a basket, I headed downstairs, yawning. 

“I’m going to bed,” I said from the doorway of the living room where the boys were gathered. They all looked up simultaneously, and then looked back down hurriedly. “What?” I asked, looking down at my clothes. “Too scandalous?” I sassed. 

“Just wasn’t expecting you to wear that.” Dean muttered, keeping his head down. 

I chuckled, shaking my head. “I’m going to bed,” I repeated, yawning. “G’night.” I mumbled, moving from the door as they each mumbled ‘goodnight’ to me.

I pushed the covers back on my bed after shutting my door, and climbed in sleepily. 

I had had a very exhausting day. 

 

The next morning I woke up to Sam knocking on my door. 

“Diane? Time to get up. Breakfast is ready.” He called. 

“Guuhhh.” I groaned. 

“Come on,” He said, and I heard him shuffle outside in the hall. 

“Mmmmph.” I groaned, rolling over. “Nngh.”

“Do I have to come in there and pull your blanket off?” He asked seriously. 

“No.” I said, crawling out of bed slowly. It was warm under the blanket, and I really didn’t want to get up. I could remember I had dreamed something, but I couldn’t remember what even though it kept teasing the edge of my thoughts. 

I ignored the dream and focus on getting dressed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I pushed on my glasses. I opened my door to see Sam fully dressed, grinning brightly. I   
glared at him, and succeeded in making his smile falter for a moment. 

“What did I do?” He asked. 

“You’re cheerful.” I grumbled, going downstairs. 

“So you’re not a morning person, huh?” He asked. 

I stopped and turned to glare at him. “Do I look like a fucking morning person?” I asked, before turning and continuing downstairs. 

When we entered the kitchen, I narrowed my eyes at Dean, who was also fully dressed and awake, but was slightly less suspicious when I noticed he was nursing a cup of coffee. 

“Where are the mugs?” I asked, shuffling forward. 

“You drink coffee?” Dean asked. 

I glared at him, and retrieved the sugar and milk from the fridge before grabbing a mug. Once I had my coffee and had put the milk and sugar away, I sank into a chair, sipping at the hot liquid. “How long have you two been up?” I asked, blinking as I tried to chase away the sleepiness. 

“Awhile,” Dean said, “Did you sleep good? No weird dreams?” He asked. 

It was then that I remembered my dream. I choked on my coffee, now fully awake. 

“Diane?” Sam asked, and I didn’t meet his eye.

“I’m fine.” I rasped. “Just remembered what I dreamed was all.” I said, staring down into my coffee. 

“What did you dream that made you choke on your coffee?” Dean asked, and I shook my head, trying to dispel the image floating around in it. 

I mumbled a response, cringing. 

“What? Stop mumbling.” He said, and I closed my eyes. 

“Gay sex. I dreamed of gay sex.” I said, shaking my head slowly. 

“What?!” Dean demanded, and I could practically feel the incredulous look Sam was giving me. 

“Uh, yeah. Not my fault. Really, it’s not. I didn’t choose to dream of it.” I defended, taking a large swallow of coffee. 

There were a few minutes of silence, and I prayed in that moment that the earth would open beneath me and swallow me up. Unfortunately that didn’t happen. But what did happen was Dean asking me this,

“Were they hot?”

“I’m sorry?” I asked, staring at him. Had Dean Winchester, the man who freaked about even being assumed gay, and slept with every woman he could, just asked me if the men in the gay sex I’d dreamt about were hot?

“You heard me.” He said, not meeting mine or Sam’s gaze.

I paused. “Yeah, they were pretty hot.” I said, shrugging. 

He nodded, and we all sat there in awkward silence. I downed the rest of my coffee, wishing to Chuck that I hadn’t said anything. I should’ve just brushed it off, let them think whatever. This was beyond awkward.

Eventually, Bobby came in, - was I really the last one up or were they all morning people? - and we went outside so I could shoot. He led us out to the backyard, pointing at a target a little ways out. 

“I know you said you didn’t have a lot of experience with shooting, so let’s just see how you do shooting that target out there. Empty the whole clip,” He said, handed me a pistol.

“How many does it have in it?” I asked, checking the safety. 

“Six and one in the chamber.” He said, and gestured for me to get to it. I stepped forward, somewhat nervous. I could feel my nerves tingling, and I pushed it aside, trying to calm down. I braced my feet as I lifted the gun, noting the way Dean nodded approval as I adjusted my grip. I aimed, and squeezed the trigger, wincing at how loud it was. My ears were ringing, but I pulled the trigger six more times, about half of them hitting the target.

“Good job.” Bobby said. “You need more practice, but you’re doing good.” He said. 

“Yeah, well, it would help if there weren’t church bells ringing in my head.” I said, trying to hear properly. 

They chuckled, and I shook my head, blinking a little. I didn’t move for a moment, afraid that my balance was off, and I was right. I swayed a little when I tried to walk. 

“You guys go on inside,” I said, “I’m going to stand here until I can walk and hear again.” 

They chuckled, heading inside, and I glanced around, taking in the meager back yard. It was then I noticed him. He was, of all thing, standing in the treeline. 

I blinked twice to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. Nope, still there. 

“Adrian?” I asked, approaching slowly. I should probably yell for help, but if he had just appeared, chances are he could just disappear. 

“My name is not Adrian.” He said. “My name is Michael.”

“Right. And this world just happens to have a vessel that not only can hold you but also looks exactly like the character from the book I wrote?” I asked incredulously. 

“I am a hallucination, in your head. The hunters won’t come out to check on you until after we’re done talking, don’t worry.” Michael said. “Now, you told me you knew how and when the Apocalypse was going to happen?” 

I nodded dumbly. “Y-yeah, I know.” I confirmed. 

“Well, tell me.” He said. 

“Soon, and we’re talking mere months, if that, Sam Winchester is going to be killed. Now I know you don’t care for Sam, because Dean is supposed to be your vessel, making him the Righteous Man. Well, Dean makes a deal with a demon to bring Sam back to life. He has one year after that to live before the hellhounds come howling. In Hell, Dean will torture souls. He will break the first Seal. And when he does, it’ll be too late. Heaven will be too late. The rescue mission will happen but it’s still one step closer to letting Luci out. And throughout it all, they will be tricked into thinking that killing Lilith can stop the Apocalypse. So they kill her. And open the damn Cage.” I said, staring into the blue eyes.

“You’re certain that this is how it’s going to happen?” Michael asked. 

“Yes.” I said, nodding. 

“You’re not a prophet. Who are you?”

“My name is Diane. And your little brother, Gabriel, snapped me over here because, and I quote, he thinks I’ll be the kind of influence that Sam and Dean need. And that’s the last I saw of him.” I said. 

“Gabriel? Gabriel left Heaven, years ago.” Michael scoffed. 

“Just because he left doesn’t mean he’s dead, or that he’s lost his Grace.” I said. “Now, I told you about the Apocalypse. Can I go home now?” I asked.

“Home? You can go back to the hunters, but we both know that isn’t home.” Michael said. 

“All the same,” I shrugged. “Can I go?” 

“Of course.” He said, and I turned to go. “But Diane. If you've lied to me, you will pay.”

The tone of his voice sent shivers down my back, but I ignored them, choosing instead to focus of walking back to the house without falling. My ears were still ringing, but I couldn’t stay out here any longer. Stumbling through the door, I braced myself against the wall. 

“Whoa, Diane, you okay?” Dean asked, his voice sounding high and dim through the blood rushing through my ears. 

“Fine,” I breathed. “I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?” He asked, helping me to the dining room where they were all seated. I sank into the offered chair, rubbing my temple. Hallucinating an archangel was not fun. 

“Diane?” Sam asked. “What happened?” 

“You wouldn’t believe me.” I muttered, trying to piece together a coherent prayer for Gabriel.

“Try us,” He said, snorting a little. 

“Meh,” I mumbled, closing my eyes and resting my head in my hands. _Gabriel, hailing Gabriel, this is the Earthling. I need some help, I may have a bit of an angelic situation down here. Do you copy?_

Well, not the best prayer but it would work. A few seconds later, he popped in. 

“Hel-lo you guys.” He greeted with a grin, before his eyes fell to me. “What the Hell happened to you?” He asked. 

“More like what the Heaven happened to me.” I said, dragging my eyes up to meet his. “Your eldest brother.”

He didn’t say anything, but his smile slipped from his face. 

“Diane? What are you talking about?” Sam asked. 

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with Samsquatch.” Gabriel said with a forced grin, tapping my forehead with two fingers, and we were zapped to what appeared to be his living room. “What happened? And what’s it got to do with Michael?” He demanded. 

“Well,” I groaned. “Remember my brilliant plan for praying to get help to prevent the Apocalypse?”

“Yeah?”

“He showed up,” I said, resting my arm over my eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not a beta'd work, all mistakes are my own.

“What happened after Michael arrived?” Gabriel asked, taking a seat.

“And he asked for the details, which I gave. He then told me that if I was lying to him that I’d pay. Not exactly the best way to end a conversation. Let me tell you,” I moved my arm to stare him in the eye. “Having an archangel force a hallucination on you is not fun. It’s especially not fun when the angel is a dick, appearing to you as a character you created and loved.”

Gabriel snorted, and took a bite of his Snickers bar. “So, you think he’ll help?”

“Maybe. You could help, but I doubt that’s going to happen. The fact is, the Apocalypse doesn’t happen and everyone can continue on as they were. We just smite all the major demons, and I know which ones they are, and we keep going.”

“Hmm. Not a bad idea. What about Lilith?” He asked. 

“Well, if Dean is the one who breaks the First Seal, and we stop him from breaking it, then killing Lilith isn’t going to do anything. As a matter of fact, even if he breaks the Seal, all we have to do is kill her before they break the other 64 Seals. Then they can’t break them in order and Lucifer can’t get out.” I said, leaning forward. 

“True, true.” He murmured. “Give me the names of the demons that need to be smote.”

“Alastair, Lilith, Azazel,” I paused. “I would say Crowley, but he isn’t going to be an issue unless the Apocalypse happens. Ruby, definitely. That’s about all the major demons dealing in popping open the Cage.”

“Why not Crowley?” He asked, tilting his head. 

“Crowley’s smart. He knows that if Luci manages to exterminate humanity, then he’ll kill the demons next. After all, demons are not only arrogant, puss-bags, they also were human, at one point.” I pointed out.

“True, very true.” Gabriel said, nodding. “Well, I guess I’ll take you back, and then I’m off to do some smiting. Oh, here.” He said, tossing me a Mr Goodbar. I caught it just as he snapped me back into my chair at Bobby’s. The boys were staring at me, and I was holding my candy, looking surprised. “Well,” I offered with a chuckle. “I guess that solves those problems.” I said, looking down. 

 

“He’s a what?!” Bobby yelled, and I cringed. We’d been cooped up for weeks now, and Sam and Dean were gone on a hunt right now. Something to do with a ghost a few towns over.

“An angel. An archangel, to be more specific.” I said, looking down. “My laptop and phone are connected to my universe, I can find out ways to trap angels.” I assured. 

“I don’t believe you.” He said, scowling at me. 

“This is your problem, Dean, you have no faith.” I muttered, dragging a hand down my face.

“What was that?” He asked, glaring at me.

“Season four, episode one, Lazarus Rising.” I sighed. “We meet Castiel, who tells Dean that he’s an angel and Dean says he doesn’t believe him. Cas responds by saying ‘This is your problem, Dean, you have no faith.’ and promptly does a display of angelic power.” I said, shaking my head. Bobby glared at me, and I glared back at him. 

“You have a lot of nerve to suggest that angels-”

“I have nerve? _I have nerve?_ ” I asked, standing up in anger. “I’m the one who was zapped over here by one of the freaking things! I’m the one who has to deal with my emotional and mental unstableness on top of being in an alternate fucking universe!” I screamed, eyes clouding with tears. I swiped them away angrily. I had been fairly stable, my skin tingling only once or twice during the time I’d been here, but this was a new extreme. I’d never screamed at an adult before, especially not one I knew could kick my ass. I was shaking now, staring him down. 

“Don’t you yell at me!” He hollered right back. 

“I’ll scream my damn lungs out if I want to!” I shrieked at him, before turning and storming off, hoping to calm down some if I was alone. Before I could reach the door though, he grabbed me and spun me to face him. 

“Now you listen here little miss!” He started, pushing me into a chair. I glared up at him, seriously contemplating kicking him in the jewels. “I have taken you under this roof, given you a room, let you have free rein around here. But I have rules. And you. Will. Listen to them.” He said, crowding my personal space with hand on either arm of the chair. “Let’s start with your cutting-”

“I do not, cut.” I said, clenching my jaw. I could feel my heart hammering away beneath my chest, and I was surprised he couldn’t hear it. “I will never, _ever_ , cut myself. Putting a blade to my skin is something I’ve never done nor will I ever do.” I said with conviction.

“Fine. Then I’ll call it your self-harm. If you ever hurt yourself under my roof again I will toss you out on your ear. Are we understood?” He asked, and the room blurred in my vision as I looked down. 

“Second, you will not scream at me anymore. If you need to get your feelings out, we have plenty of targets that need shooting.”

I didn’t say anything, so he continued. “Third, I will teach you how to hunt, and you will be grateful because I could just kick your ass onto the street.” 

I narrowed my eyes at that one. I wouldn’t be grateful just because he says I should be. 

“Fourth, no more locking yourself in your room. I don’t want to have to worry you’ve slit your wrists and are bleeding all over my floor.” 

I pressed my lips together, but still said nothing. 

“And lastly, if you try to run away, know that there is nowhere you can hide where we won’t find you. Clear?”

I refused to look at him, feeling part of myself crumple up and die inside. No more hurting myself. How was I going to deal with everything? How was I going to have any semblance of control over my emotions anymore? Did he even know how many nights I’d lain awake, curled up because my chest hurt so bad I was in tears? How would I survive without this outlet?

I could feel the panic rising up in me, and I felt trapped. He still had me pinned to the chair, and I was about to start hyperventilating. It was getting dark outside, and I had a sudden memory of-

“No!” I screamed, pushing back against the chair, trying to get away. Not again. Surely this wouldn’t be happening again. “No get away from me. I won’t let you hurt me.” I said, and my voice was shaky, but the words were firm. 

_He’d_ stood up, backed away from the chair when I screamed. _He_ turned on a lamp now to light up the darkening room, and I bolted, running to the other side of the room to stay in the corner. 

“I won’t hurt you.” _He_ said, raising _his_ hands as _he_ started to approach. “I promise.”

My breath hitched, and I cringed away. 

“You promised me it wouldn’t happen again and it. Still. Happened.” I hissed, pressing farther against the wall. 

_He_ dropped _his_ hands and backed away, and I ran for it. I made it to my room, shutting the door and locking it before I let myself relax. I slid down onto the floor, reaching for my phone. I blindly scrolled through my contacts, wishing there was someone I could talk to. I finally just closed my phone, and let my head fall back on the oak door, glad to have something between me and _him_. I picked up my phone again, this time not hesitating to call Sam. 

“Diane? What’s going on?” He answered. 

“S-sam.” I choked out, feeling the panic well up again. “Help. Help, please. I’m scared.” I whispered into the phone, feeling tears trickle down my face.

“Hey, hey calm down, it’s okay.” He said, and I heard him telling Dean to pack up, they were headed here. “We’re on our way, just stay calm, and stay low. Are you in danger?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” I said, “I need someone here. I can’t stay here alone.” I admitted, wanting to throw up. I’m slowly falling to pieces, but Sam needs me to talk to him.

“Okay, okay we’re in the car now, I’m going to hang up. Will you be okay till we get there?” He asked worriedly. 

“I think so.” I whispered, and he said a quick bye before hanging up. 

I closed my eyes and tried to calm down, knowing that help is on the way. I can control myself. Except when I’m pinned down like that. Sighing, I pushed the thoughts from my head. Almost as soon as my mind was empty, I fell asleep. 

 

Sam and Dean skidded to a halt and were out of the Impala before it had even fully stopped. Guns drawn and on high alert, they busted through the door, only to be met by a surprised Bobby. 

“Where’s the fire?” He asked, and they exchange glances, with a nod to one another, Sam flicked the safety on his gun and tucked it into the waistband of his jeans as he headed for the stairs. Dean did the same with his gun, offering Bobby a smile. 

“Diane called us, she was scared. She said she thought she was in danger.” He said, shaking his head. 

The older hunter nodded in understanding. “I think I know what happened.” He said, leading the way towards his laptop. He turned it around and let Dean read what was written on the screen. 

“ _Signs Someone’s Been Sexually Abused_?” He read out loud. 

 

Sam came up the stairs slowly and softly. Heavy footfalls might upset her, and she was already distressed. He knocked softly on her door before trying the handle and finding it locked. He knocked again, and she didn’t answer. Concerned, he picked the lock easily, and gently pushed open the door. He was met with resistance, like a body. He eased the door open enough to slip inside before he looked to see what was blocking the door. 

Diane was there, her phone in her hand, face stained with tears. Her hair was messy, and she was pale, so he did the only thing he could think of. He picked her up and carried her to bed, laying her down and brushing her hair out of her eyes. She smiled sleepily and rolled onto her stomach, and settled down, sleeping soundly. 

Sam headed back downstairs to see Dean staring at Bobby’s laptop, in what looked to be shock, and was quick to find out why. 

“Why do you believe it was sexual abuse?” He asked.

“Some of the things she said, and the way she acted. When there were three of us, it wasn’t a fight she was putting up. She was trying to get away. Her fight or flight takes the side of flight so strong she fights to get away.” Bobby said. “And earlier, when she panicked. She thought she was talking to her abuser. She said that he’d promised it wouldn’t happen again but it did. And she seems to be a natural at running, taking every opportunity, and bolting the door.”

Sam frowned, “That’s why she thought she was in danger. She thought he would come for her again.”

“She should know she’s safe here.” Dean said, looking at Bobby. “Why wouldn’t she feel safe?”

“Me and her got in an argument, and I did the same thing I’d do with you two idjits. I pushed her into a chair and laid down a few rules.” He said. 

“You pushed her?” Sam asked, just as Dean asked, “What rules?”

“Yeah, I pushed her. And the rules are simple. No hurting herself, no locking herself in her room, no yelling at me, and she’ll be grateful that we’re teaching her how to hunt. If she runs away she knows we’ll find her. It’s as simple as that.” 

“Yelling?” Dean repeated. 

“Like I said, we got into an argument. We yelled at each other and she tried to walk out on me.” Bobby said. 

Sam exchanged looks with Dean before he headed upstairs to check on her again. 

 

I rolled over, and realized I was in bed. I sat up, scooting back against the headboard as I scanned the room, looking for whoever had put me in my bed when I’d been on the floor. 

The steady thunk of footfalls coming up the stairs caught my attention, and I gripped the knife under my pillow tightly, sliding out of bed to pace over beside the door, waiting on whoever was on their way. 

They pushed my door open and I turned, bringing my blade down towards their chest. He grabbed my forearm,and pushed me backwards across the room. I paused and took a moment to realize it was Sam, and lowered the knife.

“Diane?” He asked. 

“Yeah, I’m fine now.” I said, pushing the blade under my pillow. He watched the movement carefully, before his eyes flitted back to mine. 

“Hey, I’m glad you know how to use that, but you want to explain just why you tried to stab me?” He asked.

“I was still kinda panicking,” I said, looking at the ground. His feet moved into my vision, and I felt his hand tipping my chin up. 

“It’s okay. Talk to me, tell me why you were panicking to begin with.” He said, guiding me to the bed. 

“I had another panic attack, or whatever.” I said, as we sat. “Me and Bobby were sick of being cooped up, and we finally just both snapped, started yelling at one another. I’ve never screamed at an adult that much, much less one that can kick my ass.”

“What happened after you started yelling?” Sam asked. 

“Well, I tried to leave. I needed space to calm down. And he grabbed me by the arm and pushed me into a chair. He proceeded to tell me that I couldn’t hurt myself or he’d kick me out, I wouldn’t scream at him, I couldn’t lock myself in my room, I would be grateful for y’all teaching me to hunt, and that if I ran away y’all would find me.” I said, glaring at the tarnished feather ring I was wearing. 

“He said all that?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah,” I said.

“Okay, what happened after he said those things?” 

“Well, as he was continuing to yell them at me, I was getting more and more scared, and panicky. I was trapped, it was getting dark, and I had a flashback of a similar situation. I don’t remember clearly what happened after that. Only that I got away from him, and ran upstairs. I didn’t know to do, so I called you.” I said, and a few tears slipped from my eyes. I blinked, not even realizing I had been tearing up. 

“We got here as soon as we could.” Sam said, pulling me to him, holding me. I adjusted so that I could hear his heartbeat, and closed my eyes. 

“Will you sing?” I asked quietly. Music always calmed me down, and it’s always been a private thing of mine that I wanted someone to sing to me. 

“Sure,” he said, and cleared his throat. He paused, trying to think of something to sing. “This was one of Jess’ favorites.”

_“Drew looks at me_  
_I fake a smile so he won't see_  
_That I want and I'm needing_  
_Everything that we should be_  
_I'll bet she's beautiful, that girl he talks about_  
_And she's got everything that I have to live without_  
_Drew talks to me_  
_I laugh because it's so damn funny_  
_But I can't even see_  
_Anyone when he's with me_  
_He says he's so in love, he's finally got it right_  
_I wonder if he knows he's all I think about at night_  
_He's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar_  
_The only thing that keeps me wishing on a wishing star_  
_He's the song in the car_  
_I keep singing, don't know why I do_  
_Drew walks by me_  
_Can't he tell that I can't breathe?And there he goes, so perfectly_  
_The kind of flawless I wish I could be_  
_She'd better hold him tight, give him all her love_  
_Look in those beautiful eyes and know she's lucky cause_  
_He's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar_  
_The only thing that keeps me wishing on a wishing star_  
_He's the song in the car_  
_I keep singing, don't know why I do_  
_So I drive home alone, as I turn off the light_  
_I'll put his picture down and maybe get some sleep tonight_  
_He's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar_  
_The only one who’s got enough of me to break my heart_  
_He's the song in the car_  
_I keep singing, don't know why I do_  
_He's the time taken up, but there's never enough_  
_And he's all that I need to fall into_  
_Drew looks at me_  
_I fake a smile so he won't see.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song lyrics shown here are Tear Drops On My Guitar by Taylor Swift, and I didn't ask for permission to use them in this fic, because who the hell cares about fanfiction? (Besides fans, of course)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not a beta'd work, all mistakes are my own.

Strains of the song echoed around the room, and I smiled slightly. "Thank you." I whispered, feeling the need to fill the silence. 

“You’re welcome.” He said. “Are you okay now?” He said, stroking my hair. The motion was so protective, so brotherly almost, that it formed a lump in my throat. I had used to do it with my best friend.

“Yeah, I’m fine now.” I said, pulling away and sitting up. “I just freaked out. I think I need some time away from here.”

“Where could you go?” Dean asked from the doorway, and I looked up. 

“The Roadhouse,” I said. “We could at least talk to Ellen and Ash about what’s going on.”

“What is going on? The Trickster took you off for a private conversation and you still haven’t told us what happened.” He asked. 

I nodded slowly. This was safe territory for me. Maybe. “It’s… complicated. If I tell you, and I have succeeded what I’m trying to accomplish, then it’ll be stress for no reason.” I said. 

“Tell us.” Dean scowled. I shifted, and scooted away from Sam slightly. 

“Diane?” He asked. I stared at my hands, trying to figure out how to word this. _Gabriel, our private conversation a few weeks ago is concerning the boys and they want to know what’s going on. Also, I’d like to know how many demons you’ve smote._ I prayed silently. 

A soft rustle of wings filled the room, and Gabriel was there. “Hey you guys.” He greeted. 

“Hello, Gabriel.” I said.

“So, I’ll have you know that I have gotten rid of Zaze and Ruby.” He said to me, and I perked up. 

“Both of them?” I asked. “Really?”

“Would I lie to you?” He asked. 

I shrugged, but wiggled in happiness. “Wonderful. With Azazel gone, I think we’re in the clear. However, you never truly know.” I said. “Thank you so much.”

He looked pleased with himself before his gaze focused on Sam and Dean. “So you two want to know about me and Diane’s conversation a few weeks ago?” He clarified. 

“Yeah,” Sam said, moving to stand beside his brother. 

“Well, she gave me a list of demons that could bring on the Apocalypse. I mean we’re talking the Devil himself, his loyal followers, all of it.” Gabriel said. “I’ve been wiping them out.”

“Azazel is the demon that killed your mom, and Jessica.” I said, “He was a big part of the plan. However, even with him gone the others could pick up his slack.”

“Who are they?” Sam asked, a calculating look on his face. 

“Alastair, and Lilith,” He said. 

“If we summon them, could you kill them?” Sam asked, and me and Dean both looked at him like he’d grown two heads. 

“That’s insane!” I said. 

“It’s hard to track them down. A summoning would be good.” Gabriel said over me, and I twisted to stare at him. 

“You people are insane!” I exclaimed. “I’m going to make pie!” 

“Ooh what kind?” Gabe perked up and I rolled my eyes. 

“Kool Aid pie. Would you like to snap up the ingredients?” I asked, rolling my eyes.

“Sure! Whatcha need?” He asked eagerly. 

“Two tubs of whipped cream, not the canned stuff,” I clarified. “Two packets of kool aid mix, preferably lemonade and blue raspberry, and two cans of sweetened condensed milk.”  
I said, smiling. “Oh and two large graham cracker crusts.” I added.

“It’s on the cabinet.” He smiled. “Now make me pie.”

“You pie?” I sassed as I headed for the door. “Me pie.”

I ducked between Sam and Dean and headed for the kitchen, where I found Bobby staring at the ingredients suspiciously, a glass of whiskey in hand. 

He looked up when I entered, but both of us avoided saying anything. I was grateful for it as I set about mixing the lemonade pie, opening a tub of whipped cream and dumping it in a large bowl. I added the condensed milk and lemonade flavoring, mixing it thoroughly with a whisk before opening a crust and spreading the filling around in it. I put the lid on the tin container and set it in the fridge before I washed the bowl and whisk to start on the blue raspberry one. When it was in the fridge, I put the stuff in the sink, and turned to Bobby. 

“So, earlier.” I started. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you freak out.” He said. 

“No, no I understand. I get it. But I think I just need some time out of the house. Like, I don’t know, a trip to the Roadhouse. I think it’d be nice to meet Ellen, and from what I’ve heard, Ash is a pretty cool guy.” I said as the boys entered. 

“Ash is cool, but I’m not sure you should go to the Roadhouse.” Dean said, looking around. “Where’s the pie?” he asked. 

“In the fridge,” I said, moving to stand in front of it as Gabriel appeared. 

“Diane,” He started, reaching to push me aside. 

“It’s not ready yet.” I said sternly. “It needs to set. Now Dean, why shouldn’t I go to the Roadhouse?”

“I don’t want you out in the open, even for a moment. Not until he ganks those demons.” He said, shaking his head. 

“Dean, I’m fine!” I exclaimed. “If you want Gabriel can come with.” I said. His face tensed up, and I scoffed at him. “He hasn’t hurt you. Mystery Spot won’t happen for a long while yet, and maybe not even then.” I said. 

“Mystery Spot?” he asked, and I tensed. Oops.

“Er, well, before he becomes an ally, he um, well he’s a Trickster, and you guys are kinda his favorites, and uh,” I swallow, looking at Gabriel, hoping he’ll help me. 

“What?” Bobby demands.

“He, er, well, he wants to teach- oh it doesn’t matter! It won’t happen, not unless we fail at killing Alastair and Lilith.” I said. 

“What won’t happen?” Dean demands. I scoot back a little, nervous. 

“Um, he puts Sam in a time loop and kills Dean every day. For like, a hundred Tuesdays.” I blurted out, shuddering at the memory of some of the ways he’d died. “Some of those deaths were, well, gruesomely creative.” I said. 

“He kills me?” Dean asked, and both him and Sam moved to advance on Gabriel. 

“He has a reason!” I say, stepping between them. “It’s not even going to happen. Let’s just calm down.”

“What on earth could be a good enough reason for ganking me hundreds of times?” Dean demanded. 

“He wanted Sam to get used to you dying! And there being nothing he can do to stop it!” I said, eyes wide. 

“Why would Dean die?” Sam asked, eyes narrowing. I swallowed, trying to slow down my heart rate. 

“Well, that’s what I’m trying to stop. By killing Yellow Eyes, we’ve almost 100% ensured that nothing is going to happen but you never really know.” I said. “If you could just trust me a little, because believe me, you don’t want to know.”

“Why not?” Sam asked. I closed my eyes, turning to lean back on the fridge. 

“Because it’s really heavy, and stupid, and you really don’t want to know.” I said.

Silence followed my statement, and I knew eventually I’d have to tell them but now wasn’t the time. It was already a stressful enough day, and I didn’t want to add to it. 

After a moment, Gabriel spoke. “What do you say we summon up Alastair and I kill him for you?” 

“Sure,” Sam said, and we went to the library, where they started the summoning ritual. I hung back in the doorway, and watched as Sam, Dean and Bobby backed off after dropping the match. Alastair appeared right where we wanted him, under the Key of Solomon on Bobby’s roof. 

“You called?” He asked, spreading his hands. I felt my lip curl backward in a silent snarl, as I realized I was even in the same room with the demon who’d tortured/will torture Dean for over thirty years before Dean broke. 

“Yep,” Gabriel said, sauntering forward. “Do you know who I am?”

“Loki,” Alastair said, nodding. 

“Meh, close.” Gabriel said, shrugging. “I grew up upstairs.” 

The demon’s expression shifted, and he tried to back away, only to collide with the edge of the circle. “Angel,” He hissed, voice low. 

“Archangel.” Gabriel corrected, approaching him. “With one focus right now.” He paused for dramatic effect, and I watched him carefully. “Killing your sorry ass.”

His hand snapped out, his palm resting on Alastair’s forehead, and his body flooded with light, filling the room. 

I didn’t look away, even when it got hard to see. Alastair was a sick bastard, and I would see this through. Dean and Sam shielded their eyes, but all I did was squint, still focused on the sight of Gabriel smiting Alastair. The light faded quickly, and I never blinked as Alastair’s body collapsed to the ground. I raised my eyes to Gabriel, who was watching me. I nodded once, turning to go to the bathroom. 

“Diane, why didn’t you look away?” He asked, and I froze. 

“Alastair tortured him in Hell for centuries, and ended up causing him to break the first Seal. I had to watch.” I said, turning to look him in the eye. 

“So all in all, it’s just justice for you?” He asked. 

“Yes,” I said, nodding 

“Okay, well how about we have some pie? Celebrate killing one of Hell’s strongest?” he suggested. 

“Give me a minute,” I said, smiling a little. He nodded and I continued on my to the bathroom. 

Once I was inside, I braced myself against the door and took a deep breath. I knew I should’ve looked away, that I truly wasn’t that sadistic but I couldn’t stop myself. I knew that trying to attack Alastair when Gabriel had it covered was useless, but it had taken a lot of self control to stop myself from ripping his face off. 

I knew that rape was a form of torture, and over the course of forty years, it had to have happened once at the very least. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves, and turned the faucet on. The water was steaming and my hand shot forward to twist on the cold water too.

I didn’t want to risk hurting myself, not right now. I leaned over the sink, splashing my face with water. When I looked in the mirror, I took a long look at myself.

I was the same girl. Round cheeks, full lips, almond-shaped hazel eyes. My hair was still frizzy, and I still had the slight double chin. 

But I’d changed emotionally. I’d never truly be the same, not ever. In the time I’d been here, I’d dealt with my past more than I had when I was at home. I knew it would hurt before I healed, but I didn’t know how bad it would hurt, and I was honestly scared. With a sigh, I grabbed the hand towel hanging on the wall and patted my face dry, pulling myself from my thoughts. 

I headed into the kitchen, glad to see everyone smiling and in a good mood. With a smile, I grabbed plates and silverware, heading for the table where they’d already gotten the pies out. 

“Okay guys, who’s ready for my wonderful, homemade kool aid pie?” I asked, grinning. I set the plates down and opened the first pie tin, slicing it up and divvying it out. I watched Dean for his reaction, satisfied when he downright moaned around the mouthful of creamy, tangy pie filling. 

“Wait till you taste the lemonade.” I said, taking a bite of my own and closing my eyes in bliss. “It really has been too long since I’ve had this.” I mumbled, taking another bite.

“Mmm, very good.” Gabriel said, wolfing his down. 

“Slow down,” I said reproachfully. “Savor it.”

He slowed down, and nodded as his tongue was flooded with the full flavor. We ate in silence, and I let them have the rest of the blue raspberry, eyes settling on the lemonade. 

“I want to save that one for after killing Lilith.” I said, taking it to the fridge. 

“What? No! You can make another!” Dean protested, and I turned to see Sam giving me puppy eyes.

“Oh, Sam,” I said, biting my lip. “With the puppy eyes.”

He gave me hopeful puppy eyes, and it took every bone in my body to turn around and put the pie away. I turned back to see all of them giving me sad, wide, childish eyes and my own eyes grew wide in horror. 

“No! No more pie!” I said, almost running from the room. “And no more puppy eyes!” I hollered over my shoulder at them. 

I headed to my room, grabbing my guitar and flipping my notebook open to see which songs I needed to work on. So far, the list was Hey You, Breath, and another one I still hadn’t named. I decided on _Breath_ , a song Merrida had written, but was letting me put a melody to. I frowned, strumming and trying to focus on the chord progressions. 

“I want,” I started, trying out the strumming pattern. “Your lips,” I faltered and tried again, gritting my teeth. “Against,” Maybe I actually had this. “My lips.” Nope. I settled for just single strumming, no particular rhythm. 

I didn’t notice Dean in my doorway for a little while, not until I’d switched to one I was working on the tablature for, _Ex-Best Friend._

“How long you played?” He asked, and I looked up. 

“About three months or so.” I said, looking back down at the guitar in my hands, changing to G, nodding as I strummed easily, singing the lyrics.

_“You’re my ex best friend,_  
_The one and only_  
_And here I thoughtYou were a true friend,”_ I finished, smiling sadly. 

“You write that for anyone in particular?” He asked.

I nodded. “Her name was BB, but I think it’s for someone else now.” I said, playing through the chords again. 

“Who?”

“Someone who didn’t take my bisexuality good.” I said, shrugging. 

“What is bisexuality? It was never clear for me.” He said. 

“It’s when someone is attracted to both genders. I like guys and girls.” I said. “But a lot of times, we’re just persecuted by friends and family. It’s hard for us. We form communities and stuff online, we have safe spaces. It’s hard, but I’m never going to apologize or deny who I am.” I said, closing my eyes a moment. 

“Well, that’s good.” Dean said gruffly.

“You know, a lot of the fans of the TV show think you’re bi.” I said. “If you are, and ever want to talk, I’m here. I can always talk to people about my bisexuality to Sam and Bobby see how they take it before you come out.” I offered. 

“How did you know? It was just a guess, there’s no proof.” He said.

“It was a guess, but I know bi people, I can tell when someone is. Like me, my brother, and my best friend are all bi. We’re a special kind.” I said, smiling. 

“Really? Huh.” He said. 

“Hey, you play?” I asked.

“Uh, a little yeah.” He responded cautiously. 

“Hm. All the bi’s I’ve talked to play an instrument. Odd.” I said, chuckling. 

“All?” he asked. 

“Well, I play guitar, Sam - my brother - plays guitar and piano, Marie plays violin, guitar, and piano, and my friend Merrida plays a little of everything.” I said. “She did piano for two years, flute for two years, and just started with the violin.”

“Whoa.” He said.

“Yeah, I know. It’s kinda intimidating.” I agreed, offering my guitar. “Don’t hurt her.” I warned. 

“It’s so small.” he said, fumbling with it. 

“It’s a half-sized. A full-sized was too big for me.” I said. 

“Huh. This is too little.” He said, handing it back. I stroked the side of my guitar lovingly. 

“She’s perfect.” I said. 

He laughed at me, and I glared at him, playing the opening chords for _Ex-Best Friend_ again.

He beckoned me to come with him, so I grabbed my notebook and followed him downstairs. In the living room, he bade me sit down, and then disappeared off into the study, gone to get Bobby and Sam, I assumed. 

“What’s going on?” Sam asked as they entered. 

“Well, I want you guys to hear Diane play.” He said, taking a seat. I chuckled, flipping through my notebook, landing on Hey You.

I strummed the chords, tongue darting out over my lips nervously. I focused on the book, playing and singing, switching chords, breathing, rhythm. When I finished, I looked up at them. 

“That’s really good, Diane.” Sam said. I smiled proudly, blushing. 

“You’re a good player.” Bobby said, nodding. 

“I need some sleep,” I yawned. “This is doing nothing for me. Hey, where’d Gabriel go?” I asked. 

“He poofed out shortly after you disappeared upstairs. Something about Lilith.” He answered, and I groaned. 

“I swear that if that pie is gone in the morning, I am going to deep fry myself an archangel.” I said. 

“Angel?” Sam asked.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not a beta'd work, all mistakes are my own.

I froze, staring at them, remembering they didn’t know, and hadn’t been standing as close to Gabriel as I had when he’d smote Alastair. 

“Er, yeah. They’re real. We meet ‘em in season four, about a year and a half from now.” I said. “But no worries, you won’t get to meet the winged dicks anymore. I have assured that.” 

“Did you just call angels dicks?” Dean asked, pulling a face.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “That’s what they are. All of them. The only one I know of who wasn’t is Castiel, and he, well, he wasn’t a dick because you guys showed him humanity. Now that you don’t meet him, he’s just another angel.” I said. 

“Castiel?” Bobby asked. “What kinda name is that?”

“Well, angels have weird names. Like Samandriel, Castiel, Balthazar, Annael, Uriel.” I offered explanations. “Oh, Samandriel wasn’t a dick. He did say that ‘too much heart always was Castiel’s problem.’” I smiled fondly. “I haven’t met him yet in the series, but he seems sweet.” 

“O-kay. You are officially bonkers.” Dean said. 

“What do you think killed Alastair? The power of a pagan god? No. Pagans are strong but they aren’t that strong. It was an angel. All those times that Gabe’s shown up suddenly? It’s cause I prayed.” I said.

“I need sleep.” Dean said shaking his head. 

“Yeah, we all do.” Sam agreed and I sighed, heading up to my room. 

“Night y’all.” I called down the stairs.

“Night!” They called back. 

 

The next morning, I woke up to Gabriel sitting beside me on the bed, watching me sleep. In my head, I dimly heard Dean saying ‘Dude he’s watching her sleep. How is that not rapey?’ I waved him off my bed, holding my covers over my chest as I sat up.

“How did you sleep?” He asked cheerily. 

“Sometime around 3am I woke up and decided I could sleep better without my pajamas.” I muttered. “Now go away so I can get dressed.” 

He wrinkled his nose at me before popping away, and I shook my head. Getting dressed, I tried to think of why Gabriel would be here so early. I headed downstairs, where I found  
Sam nursing a cup of coffee. I heard him mutter something about angels before he looked up and saw me. 

“There’s tons of lore on angels,” I said. “Just like with demons, and tons of other monsters.” I said pointedly, reaching for a cup. “If you really want proof, you’ll have to ask Gabe.” 

He shook his head, and watched as I poured coffee. “That’ll stunt-”

“My growth, I know.” I chuckled, adding generous amounts of milk and sugar. “It also keeps me from suddenly deciding it’s a good time to rip your face off.” 

He nodded in agreement, gesturing to the fridge. “So is the pie still there?” He questioned. 

I checked, and then frowned. _Gabriel, I swear that I will tell all of Heaven where you are if you don’t get down here and answer my questions!_ I prayed angrily. 

There was a rustle of wings and he appeared, looking disgruntled. “There’s no need to be so threatening.” He grumbled. “What did you want?”

“Where’s the pie?” I demanded, crossing my arms. 

“The pie?” He asked in shock. “I don’t know where the pie is!”

“Dean!” I yelled, charging past Gabriel to storm up the stairs. Stomping down the hall, I banged on his door. “Dean! Where’s the pie!” I called through it. 

“Gruuh,” He moaned. “G’way.”

“Not until you tell me where the pie is.” I said sternly. 

“Mmmph. It’s not here.” He said, and I heard him shuffling around before he opened the door. 

“Then where is my pie?” I asked, enunciating each word carefully. 

“I dunno,” He mumbled, passing me to go get coffee. I followed him, seething. I wanted pie dammit and someone had stolen it. I sighed, raking my hands through my hair as I entered the kitchen. 

“So, besides finding the pie, what’s on today’s To Do list?” I asked. 

“You need to practice shooting and knife throwing, we’re going to gank this Lilith bitch, and then we’re all going out for food and ice cream.” Dean said, and I nodded. 

“Cool, but I haven’t practiced knife throwing before, I’m completely new to it.” I said, glancing between the brothers. 

“I’ll show you.” Sam said, standing. “Come on, we’ll do shooting first.” He said, beckoning me and I smile, remembering how my brother had done the same thing Sam was doing now. He’d try to make me more comfortable, especially if I was terrified of making a fool of myself. 

Someone snapped in my face, and I jerked back, shaking myself. 

“Lost in space much?” Sam asked, and I realized we were in the yard, and he already had the targets set up. 

“Sorry, I was thinking of my brother.” I said. 

“Cool, what about him?” Sam asked, and I could see he was trying to figure out more about my brother. I hadn’t talked about my family much, but he wanted to know more. 

“Well, one time for Open House, we were reciting poems, and he hadn’t planned to do one, but since I was so nervous - we were the first presentation - he offered to read one. I remember him saying ‘If it makes you feel better, I’ll get up there.’ and it was really sweet.” I said, lifting the pistol I’d been handed and taking aim. 

“What poem did he read?” Sam asked, and I pulled the trigger, the first bottle shattering with a bang. 

“ _The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost_.” I said, aiming again. 

“I think I know that one. Do you remember part of it?” He asked, and I fired again. 

_“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,_  
_And sorry I could not travel both_  
_And be one traveler_  
_Long I stood_  
_And looked down one as far as I could_  
_To where it bent in the undergrowth.”_

“That’s the first stanza.” I said, aiming and firing again. 

“Yeah, I remember it now.” Sam said, and I nodded. I finished the shooting in silence, and he led me to a scarred tree behind the house. 

“This is where we learned knife throwing, and I guess now we get to pass it on,” He said with a smile, and he spent the next hour teaching me how to hold the knife, the different types of knives, the different techniques. 

When we finally finished, I was exhausted. “My brain is mush.” I said, trodding back up to the house. 

“Yeah, it’ll be that way for a while. Tomorrow, you’ve got a test too. Different types of shape shifting creatures, as well as myths.” He reminded me. I groaned at the thought, pushing open the door. 

“But I don’t wanna!” I complained. 

“Yeah well, at least you got structure, me and Dean had to learn on the go.” Sam said, tossing me a water from the fridge as he beat me to it. 

I grumbled and downed half the bottle, before looking over at Gabriel, who was surprisingly still here. “Did you find my pie?” I asked. 

“No,” He said. “But I snapped up a new one and it’s in the fridge now.”

“Lemonade?” I clarified, smiling. 

“Yep.” He said, grinning cheekily. “So, Diane, which creature abides by a lunar cycle and has partial shapeshifting ability?” He asked.

“Werewolf, and the close cousin of the were is a skinwalker, but they can shift to a full dog and don’t have to abide by the lunar calendar. Both can turn you with one bite and usually devour your heart.” I said, draining the rest of my bottle. “Are we going to kill Lilith or what?” 

“We tried summoning her, doesn’t work.” Dean said, grabbing a beer and leaning against the counter. “Can’t figure out why.” 

“A summoning doesn’t work?” I clarified.

“Yep,”

I sighed, closing my eyes. “Then it can wait. I have test tomorrow, and then we were planning to go to the Roadhouse. I’d like a little break between ganking demons.” I said. 

“Sounds good. We’ll pick up the case this weekend.” Sam said, taking a swig of his beer. I eyed the bottle loathingly. 

“That’ll kill your liver you know.” I said. 

“Won’t live long enough for it to matter.” He replied. 

“And if you live as long as Bobby, then it will matter.” I shot back, getting up and heading towards the door. “I’m going to go shoot something.” I said by way of parting, unsurprised when Gabriel followed me. 

“So Diane,” He said, strolling beside me. “Whatcha been up to?”

“Like you don’t know.” 

He didn’t respond, so I decided to accomodate him.“Trying to lowkey stop the Apocalypse.” I said. “That and I’ve been learning about hunting. Let’s not forget,” I added, getting a little frustrated. “Struggling with panic attacks and flashbacks.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment. “You needed to face what happened, and you couldn’t do that at home. They needed someone to make them responsible, and it sure as Hell couldn’t be each other.” He said quietly. “I was doing what I thought was best.”

“Yeah? Well your best ripped me away from my family.” I said, swiping away the angry tears that were forming.

“I’m sorry-”

“Sorry!” I shouted, rounding on him. “Sorry? You think that sorry makes this any better? You think that saying sorry brings me home? You think that sorry makes up for the fact that I am living without the one steady thing in my life?” I shouted, shoving him backwards a few steps. “Sorry doesn’t take me back to my brother, Gabriel.” I said, panting as I stormed away towards the range. 

I didn’t look back, already feeling guilty for yelling at him, but I heard the soft flutter of wings as he left. I stopped walking, standing in the yard, panting, and tears streaking my face. It really didn’t bring me to my brother, someone who’d always been there for me. 

Pushing away my feelings, I continued on my way, grabbing a pistol and setting up the targets. I grabbed a pair of noise cancellers, sliding them on and checking to make sure my clip was full with one in the chamber. I took aim, not pausing between shots, and immediately reloading to shoot at the paper target I’d put up. 

When I emptied that clip, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I jumped, turning to see Bobby. 

He gestured taking off headphones, and I slid the noise cancellers off. 

“Hey,” He greeted. 

“Hey,”

“So, frustrated or just practicing?” He asked, already knowing the answer. 

“Frustrated,” I sighed, and he grabbed two of the chairs that were around, sliding me one while taking one himself. 

“Wanna talk?”

I shrugged. “Gabriel and I were talking and I got upset. He had the gall to tell me he was sorry. I told him sorry didn’t take me home, or bring me back to my brother.” I said. 

“You really miss him don’t you?” Bobby asked. 

I nodded, staring at my hands. “Sam has always been there, and he was one of the first people I came out to as bi. He didn’t mind it at all, and even told me that he was bi too. And we almost always took at least one class together at co-op, so he’s always been there for me, especially after-” I broke off, unwilling to venture into those waters just yet. 

“After what?” Bobby asked. 

“I’d rather not talk about it.” I said, shaking my head. I saw him nod out of my peripheral and we were silent a moment. 

“Did you get along good?”

“Usually, but when we were little we used to fight all the time. And then it just sorta shifted, we started getting along more and more, till we were pretty close. I’d actually get jealous when he’d get a girlfriend because he was always paying attention to her, and he’d be on the phone for hours at a time, and nobody would be able to speak to him. Our mom actually went to the hospital one time and he was still on his phone with the girl.” I said, annoyed. “I naturally was worried because I’d been in the middle of writing and suddenly we had a hospital trip, and he wouldn’t get off the damn phone. But we get along, more so than a lot of siblings.” 

“More than Dean and Sam?” Bobby asked. 

“Well, my brother certainly wouldn’t share a motel room with me, but yeah, I’d say we get along better than them. I wouldn’t sell my soul to bring my brother back to life though,” I added, unthinking. 

“What are you talking about?” Bobby asked tersely. 

I bit my lip, inwardly wincing at my mistake. “Well…” I started, and told the story of seasons 1-5. When I finished, he was in shock. 

“All because Dean wanted some damn pie?!” He asked, and I busted out laughing. 

“You could see it that way.” I snorted, “I mean, Sam went in to get Dean pie, was kidnapped, and then killed and so on and so forth, so yeah.” I paused for breath, trying to stop giggling. “Luce got out because Dean wanted pie.”

“Can’t believe you gave Satan a nickname,” he muttered.

I shrugged. “Gabe calls him Lucy.” I pointed out. “Season five episode nineteen, Hammer of the Gods.” I paused. “That’s another thing I don’t want to happen,” I sighed. “Gabriel dying.”

“Lucifer kills him?” Bobby asked. 

I nodded. “He also kills Cas, who, of course, gets resurrected.” 

“And this Cas, he’s one of your favorites?”

I nodded, smiling. “Cas is actually really cute. And funny, especially when he’s sassy.” I chuckled. 

“Angels can sass? I mean Gabe’s had experience as a Trickster so I expect him to be sassy but normal angels?” He asked. 

“Well, I don’t think Castiel is trying to be sassy, but he is. I remember when he snaps at both brothers in one episode.’” I laughed. “It was hysterical, because Sam looked so offended.”

“Did Cas really do that?” Bobby asked. 

“Oh yeah, and in that episode, they were dealing with a plague-like situation and they’d both been praying to Cas for weeks trying to figure out what pulled Sam from the pit. Anyway, Cas answered Dean as soon as he prayed, and when they asked about it, Cas says, ‘You think I came because you called? I came because of the case.’ and Dean is so offended to learn he’s not that important to Cas, so he says ‘Nice to know what really matters.’ And Castiel has the nerve, the nerve to respond to Dean by saying, ‘Yes, it does help one to focus’.” I said, barely containing laughter. “Now remember that this is the same angel who has a stick up his ass.”

We turned at the sound of wings, and I froze, staring in disbelief, the previous conversation completely forgotten. There was a beat of silence, and I could hear my heart thudding under my breastbone, trying to beat it’s way out my chest. 

“Sam?” I asked.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not a beta'd work, all mistakes are my own.

He stared at me, like he couldn’t comprehend that I was real. “Diane?” He asked, and I rushed forward, jerking him into a hug, and holding him tightly. 

“Sam,” I whispered, tears streaking down my face. I didn’t want to let go, afraid he would vanish, but he pulled back, tears making his own eyes glitter. 

“I thought you were dead.” He whispered. 

“No, no,” I said. “I’ve been here, I can’t get home. I-” I choked back a sob, pulling him to me again. “Oh God Sam. I missed you so much.”

“Diane,” He whispered, hugging me just as tight. I couldn’t breathe very well, but that was fine. If I suffocated to death in my brother’s arms, I wouldn’t mind in the least. Eventually we pulled away, but neither of us mentioned the tears on our faces. 

“We need to talk,” I said, and he nodded. “Come on, I’m fairly sure we have kool aid pie left.”

Sam was sitting in the living room after the long recount and explanation, staring blatantly at the Winchesters. 

“Shocking, right?” I asked, chuckling. “At least you didn’t cuss,” 

“You cussed them out?” He asked incredulously. 

“Oh yeah, she has quite the mouth,” Dean said. 

“Hey!” I defended myself. “You try waking up, blind, in a strange motel room that smells like beer and sweat. It’s not only gross, but scary.”

Sam laughed, and I stared at him, memorizing every feature, knowing our time was drawing to a close. 

“Time’s almost up,” I said quietly into the silence that descended. Gabriel nodded, and I embraced my brother. “I miss you,” I whispered. 

He’d never been big on touches, but today he gave and took as many as he could. “I miss you too,” he said hoarsely. “Keep playin’ guitar.” He said suddenly. “I play to remember you, and uh, me and Erica work on some of the songs you’ve written.” 

I wanted to cry so badly. 

“I am, I play all the time. Tell Erica,” I paused. “Tell her I’m sorry for our fights, tell her you dreamed of me.” I choked on my words now, tears spilling over my eyes again. “Don’t forget me,” I said, pulling him to me again. 

“I won’t.” He said, and I closed my eyes, enjoying being with my brother for one last time. “You’ll come home, won’t you?” He asked. 

“Maybe,” I said. “A long time in the future. While I’m gone, remember, no drugs, no pot, no weed, none of that. Especially none of that synthetic shit.” I said sternly. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He chuckled, and we stood. I let out a shaky, stuttering breath. I’d already said everything I needed to say, wanted to say, except one thing.

“Hey, Sam,” I paused searching for the right words. “Not to make this a chick-flick moment, or at least a bigger chick-flick moment, but,” I paused, wondering why it was so hard to get the words out. 

“I know,” he said, nodding. “Me too.” 

I nodded, and Gabriel took him by the arm. “See you later Diane.” The angel said, but I didn’t take my eyes off my brother, before they disappeared with the flutter of wings.  
I sank into a chair, and closed my eyes, breathing heavily. Today had been nine different kinds of crazy, and I was exhausted. 

“You okay?” Dean asked.

“I will be. I need a shower, and then maybe some Netflix in my pajamas before getting some sleep.” I said, planning my evening in my head. 

“Cool, well, I’ll probably be doing research, Dean will be watching TV, and Bobby will be doing research too, probably. We’re trying to figure out why the summoning didn’t work.” Sam said. 

“Oh come on,” I groaned. “I thought we were giving the case a rest!”

“We are, we just wanna know why it didn’t work.” He defended. 

I grumbled, standing up to push past him. “Well, I’m going to bed. We can all work on ganking Lilith tomorrow, after we’ve all had a good night’s sleep.” I said, heading for the stairs. 

“And you’ve taken your test!” Sam called after me. 

I groaned in response, earning a laugh from the boys.

After my shower, which was blessedly calming, I changed into a tank top and shorts, crawling into bed and pulling my laptop towards me. I opened the Netflix tab, going straight to Supernatural to start binge watching. After eight episodes, I finally closed my eyes, thinking that Marie really would be proud of me for watching that many, and then I fell asleep.

The afternoon sunlight filtered through the window as I stared at the paper blankly, trying to reign in my thoughts. In my head, I heard Erica singing one of my songs.  
_“I’m sitting at a desk, writing- answers”_ My brain supplied a different word, and I chuckled before focusing on the questions in front of me. I scribbled down the answer, and moved, on finishing quickly. It wasn’t until I reached the last question that I paused. 

_What creature got away from John Winchester but was killed several years later by his son, Dean Winchester? What shifting powers does it have?_

I stared at the question, mind racing, before I sighed, remembering. “The Shtriga,” I murmured, scribbling down the words. “Has the ability to disguise itself as human. It’s vulnerable only when it feeds, and only to wrought (cast?) iron bullets.”

Sighing, I pushed my chair back, grateful for the breeze blowing through the room. I stood, heading for the stairs when I heard the front door creak open. 

Sam and Dean had needed help with a hunt today, so I was alone in the house, and we weren’t expecting visitors. I pulled my knife out of the holster at my side, edging carefully towards the front of the house. When I reached the living room doorway, I froze, not breathing into the silence as I listened carefully. I could hear two people breathing, and the distinct sound of a gun being unholstered. 

“Bobby?” A female voice called, and I nearly sagged in relief. Just Ellen and Jo then. But they didn’t know who I was, and I felt tendrils of anxiety swirl in my gut.

“His truck was gone, why was the front door unlocked?” Jo asked, and I could almost see the way Ellen’s lips tightened. 

“I don’t know.” She said tersely. I decided now was as good a time as ever to reveal myself, so I swung into the doorway, sliding into a fighting stance. 

“Who are you?” I asked, eyeing them. I already knew who they were, but they didn’t know me so it was best to play dumb.

“Who are you?” Ellen demanded. 

“I asked first, you answer, and then I will.” I said, raising my eyebrows. 

“I’m Ellen, this is my daughter, Jo.” She said after a moment. I stood, sliding the blade home into it’s holster as I held out my hand.

“My name’s Diane. Come on in, I’ll explain what’s going on.” I said, shaking her hand before leading the way into kitchen. “Sit down, we’ve got lemonade and water.” 

“Do you have beer?” Jo asked. 

“We do, but one of them goes missing it looks like I’m the culprit.” I said. “And Dean is gonna be pissed.”

“Dean? Winchester?” Ellen asked. 

"Mm hmm,” I said, nodding. “Him, Sam, and Bobby have been looking after me. I actually just finished a test on shapeshifting creatures that Bobby’s going to grade when they get back.”

“Where are they?” She asked. 

“Aren’t you the curious one?” I teased, trying to appear at ease as I poured three glasses of lemonade and set them down, shoving my hands in my pockets to hide the slight shaking. “Sam and Dean needed help on a hunt, so I’m here alone.”

“You said they were looking after you,” Jo stated. “What happened? Monster get your parents?”

I shook my head, mulling over the words I was thinking on using to describe what was going on. 

“You ever ran into a Trickster before?” I asked.

“Yeah, and we know how to kill them too.” Ellen said and I smiled fondly.

“Well, Gabe’s not your everyday Trickster, he creates clones of himself, and those are what we interact with and what we think kill. Sam and Dean were shocked to find out they hadn’t killed him.” I said, laughing a little. “Anyway, the Trickster snapped me over from… my home… and brought me to Sam and Dean. I freaked, of course, because what sane girl who wakes up in a strange, smelly motel room doesn’t freak?”

“You hesitated when you said he snapped you over from your home. Why?” She asked. 

I bit my lip, brow furrowing. “It’s a very long story you won’t believe even if they were here to back me up.” I said, “But would you like to meet the Trickster?”

“Tell me the story.” Ellen said, and I looked at her blankly, refusing to give. 

“Not until the boys get home.” I said resolutely. 

She exhaled in obvious frustration, and I shrugged, unable to do anything to help her situation. 

“Wait, you asked if we wanted to meet him?” Jo asked. “Wouldn’t that require a summoning spell?”

I shook my head with a sly grin. _Earth to Gabriel, this is Diane. Requesting your presence at home base._ There was a flutter of wings, and then he was standing there in all his 5’8” glory of sass and candy, grinning mischievously. I was even more worried now, and I felt the panic well up. I should’ve just told them to stop by later, or at least just hidden until they left.

“You called?” He asked. 

“Yep, this is Ellen, and her daughter Jo. Hunters,” I said, gesturing towards them. “Jo, Ellen, this is Gabriel, the Trickster who stole me away from my bed, and stuck me with Sam and Dean.”

“Pleased to meet you!” Gabriel said cheerfully, and I shook my head. “So, Diane,” He addressed me. “Do they know everything?” 

“No,” I said, trying to quell the unease settling in my stomach. “I’m waiting on the boys to get home.”

“Where are they?” He asked. 

“Handling a ghost a town over, nothing too bad, just a salt and burn. They needed out of the house.” I shrugged. 

“All three of them?” He scoffed. “Just leave you here all alone?”

I deadpanned him, glaring despite the unease making my heart thud heavily. “I can take of myself, Gabriel.” I said, moving to the fridge.

“Yeah, I know.” He retorted. “But you shouldn’t be left alone.” 

“I can take care of any monster that dares to walk through that door Feathers.” I said, trying to stay calm and not my anxiety get the better of me. 

“Feathers?” He asked, looking affronted. 

“Sometimes I wonder why I even care to think about you.” I said, throwing my hands up as the last of my defenses crumbled under a wave of anxiety. “Do you even care at all that I am two seconds from breaking down?!” I shouted, tears forming in my eyes. 

“Whoa, calm down.” He said, placing his hands on my shoulders, looking at me carefully. “Breath, deep breaths. You’re safe here, none of us will hurt you.” He assured me. I gulped in huge breaths of air, trying to quell the still rising panic. 

“Not working, not working,” I gasped out, trying to calm myself. He pressed a phone to my ear, and I heard it being picked up, followed by a 

_“Hello?"_

“Sam?” I asked, still trying to breath. His voice was steadying. 

_“Diane? What’s going on? Is it your anxiety?”_ he asked, worry coloring his voice. 

“Yeah, yeah, “ I panted, clinging to every word he said. “Keep talking, just keep talking. It helps.” 

_“Okay, okay. We should be some soon, Dean and Bobby are digging up the grave now. Stay calm, we’ll be there soon, I promise. Is there anyone in the house?”_

“Yeah, um, Ellen and Jo.” I said.

 _“Is Gabriel there?”_ he asked. 

“Yes, yes he’s right in front of me.” I was calming down, still shaky but calming. For once, I hadn’t lost it. 

_“Do you need me, or can I talk to him?”_

“You can talk to him,” I said, backing away from the receiver to sink into a chair. I hardly realized I’d nearly had an anxiety attack in front of Ellen and Jo, but it didn’t matter, not right now. Gabriel was saying something, and nodding and then he hung up, moving to crouch in front of me. 

“Hey, they’re on their way back now.” He said, looking at me steadily. “You okay?”

“I will be,” I said, still shaking a little. “I’m, I- I just-” 

“I know,” He assured me. “It’s okay. No one will hurt you like that.”

I nodded, putting my head down between my knees as I tried to steady myself. I was in a safe place, a safe place. “Safe place,” I whispered, and felt him squeeze my hands. “Safe place.” I repeated.

“What just happened?” Jo asked after a moment of silence. I didn’t say anything, leaving it to Gabriel. 

“She had a panic attack. When she feels cornered, or scared, she freaks, loses control. I just helped her not to get into that state.” He explained. 

They nodded, somewhat hesitant in their acceptance of the explanation, but I didn’t care. I was repeating my new mantra, ‘safe place’ in my head, focusing on calming down enough to think properly. 

Eventually, we moved into the library, talking about what I knew about hunting. They were impressed, to say the least, and I was slightly proud of myself, except for the knowledge that I’d never had any hands-on experience. 

Soon enough, I heard the familiar roar of the Impala pulling up to the house, and I went to greet Sam and Dean with a relieved smile.

“Hey, you okay?” Sam asked, checking to make sure I was okay, and even going so far as to check my wrists, which I carefully pulled from him. 

“I’m fine, Sam. Hearing your voice over the phone really helped me calm down.” I assured, rubbing at my wrists. 

“What happened? Why’d you panic in the first place?” He asked, and I couldn’t help but smile at how protective he was. 

“I was nervous, I mean, it’s Ellen and Jo, and I know a lot about them, more than I should, and they’re wondering who I am, where I came from, questioning me, and I’m trying to avoid answering and it just threw me, so I asked Gabriel to come over, because maybe he could help me stay calm but then I panicked worse because two hunters vs Trickster/archangel, and yeah, not good.” I said, letting it all out in a rush.

He nodded, and led me into the living room, where Bobby and Dean were already explaining it all in depth to the two huntresses. They glanced at me incredulously as we entered, and I sank into Sam’s shadow, trying to hide. He squeezed my arm reassuringly, but I didn’t move out from behind him. 

When Bobby finished Ellen said, “She was a lot more confident when we first met.”

“Well, she was putting on a show, plus, you guys didn’t know everything. Now, she’s even more nervous, probably afraid of what you’ll think of her.” Dean said, and I scooted further behind Sam, hiding from their gazes.

“I’d like to talk to her, if at all possible,” Ellen said, and I froze, fear trying to make me run. I battled it, repeating my mantra over and over, even knowing that everyone was watching me and I looked like a deer in the headlights.

“Can we do this tomorrow?” I whispered, backing towards the door. 

“Sure, whatever makes you comfortable.” Sam said, moving towards me. I jerked back, feeling cornered suddenly. No, no, I wouldn’t panic. Not now, not here, and certainly not twice in one night. 

“I need some air,” I said, backing out of the room quickly. I made it to the porch, where I practically collapsed on the steps, sucking in huge breaths of warm summer air.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not a beta'd work, all mistakes are my own.

“Hey,” Dean said, and I spared him a glance. I was calming down now that I was out of the house, and managed a nod. “What was that about? None of us were being threatening.” 

He sounded so nonchalant, and I wished I was so calm. 

“I’m just scared,” I said honestly. “I’m terrified. I’ve always admired these women, and I’m scared they’ll hate me, disapprove of me or whatever.” I said, looking down at my feet. 

“Sometimes I wonder why you don’t drink.” Dean said, and I snorted. 

“I hate the taste of alcohol, and even just a little bit of it makes me cringe.” I said, shaking my head. 

“Weirdo,” He muttered. 

“Freak,” I shot back, and we sat there in silence. 

Eventually I was calm enough to go back inside, and I took a seat across from Jo and Ellen, somewhat nervous. 

“So, you wanted to talk to me?” I asked, fidgeting. 

“Yeah,” Ellen said. “If you knew who we were, why’d you even ask?”

“It was best to play dumb. You were already suspicious, and I was already in a panicky mode. No reason to freak you out, thus freaking me out, more.” I shrugged. 

“Why does it matter so much what we think?” She asked, and I looked at my hands for a moment before looking back up and meeting her eye. 

“Because from the moment your characters were introduced, I admired you. Strong, independant women who can get the job done and take no shit. It was everything I wanted to be but can’t.” I said. 

“Why can’t you?” Jo asked.

“I’m too damaged. I’ll never have that confidence, plus, the boys wouldn’t let me out in the field even if I knocked them out and tied them up.” I said flatly.

“Damaged?” Ellen asked. 

“I’ve… seen a lot for a girl my age. I’ve been hurt a lot, and being away from my family doesn’t help.” I shrugged, looking down again. 

“Seen a lot?” She questioned. 

“Don’t ask again, because I’m not talking.” I said, tensing. 

There was a beat of silence before she nodded, “Okay, we won’t talk about that.”

We talked for most of the night, and around Sam sent me to bed, telling me to get some rest and that I would have the whole day off tomorrow to just play guitar and shoot, and do whatever. No stress.

It sounded like Heaven to me, and I was grateful for the promise.

 

Waking up, I blinked. It had to be almost noon. Why hadn’t anyone woken me up? “Oh yeah,” I murmured sleepily. “I’ve got the day off.” I wanted to get as much done today as possible, and was up and dressed in minutes, grabbing my guitar and notebook. I headed downstairs, smiling at the sounds of everyone talking in the kitchen. 

“Hey, look who’s awake.” Dean greeted me, and I grinned. 

“That has got to be the best night’s sleep I’ve gotten in a long time.” I said, doing a tiny shimmy, which was noticed by Sam. 

“Did you just, shimmy?” He asked, laughing.

I shrugged, propping my guitar on the wall and going to get a glass of orange juice.

“How long have you been up?” Bobby asked, and I closed my eyes blissfully as I took a swallow of juice. After swallowing, I answered. 

“I just woke up about five minutes ago.” I said, smiling like an idiot. I’d dreamed of something, someone. “I had a dream, too. A really good one.” I said, thinking about it, and Dean chuckled. 

“If it’s anything like my happy dreams we don’t wanna know.” 

“Ew, Dean, gross. Not something I need to know.” I said, wrinkling my nose. “My dream was about someone I know,” I frowned. “I’m not sure who.”

“What about your friend Marie?” Sam asked, and I shook my head. 

“I don’t know. But it was good dream, and I have had inspiration! I must go. I must write.” I said, setting down my glass and whisking away with my guitar. I could hear Jo ask, “Is she always so…?” But I couldn’t hear the reply. 

Setting down my guitar and notebook, I wrote down the lyrics to the song forming in my head, trying get it right. It was ridiculously sappy, and I winced to even try singing it. I tried though, cringing and giving up when I saw Jo leaning in the doorway. Sighing, I stopped playing, 

“I usually have better lyrics. This… this is sappier than anything.” I paused a moment, thinking. “Except for that one.” 

“That one?” She asked, and I shuddered. 

“It’s chock full of ridiculous pet names and endearments. Ugh, I can’t believe I wrote it.” I shook my head. 

“Could you sing a good one then? One of yours?” She asked.

I nodded, flipping to _Hey You_ , and strumming the intro. After I was done, she clapped, and I noticed the boys behind her. 

“Oh, hey you guys.” I said.

“Hey, you’re getting better. Practice makes perfect.” Dean said, winking. I shuddered, scooting backwards. 

“After this morning’s comments I am so not thinking about the million different ways you could interpret that.” I said, keeping my eyes on my notebook, but hearing his chuckle.

“So, how much do you know about hunting?” Ellen asked from behind me and I twisted to look at her. 

“I know a fair bit. I don’t have any hands-on experience, but I’ve got the book smarts.” I said, nodding. “They’ve also been teaching me how to shoot.”

“Don’t underestimate her with a knife though,” Sam added. “She tried to kill me.”

“In my defense, I’d had an attack and was still trying to calm down.” I snapped, frowning. 

“She’s got a mouth too.” Dean pitched in, grinning. “You shoulda heard her when we first met. It was running string of ‘shit shit shit’ and ‘fuck fuck fuck’.”

I turned deep red, tempted to grab my guitar and make a run for the door. 

“Yeah, but she’s an okay kinda girl.” He said, smiling easily. 

“That she is, and she’s come a long way since we met her. I’m proud.” Sam said, and now I was trapped, because running would be rude. 

“Thanks guys,” I muttered, scratching the back of my neck. “I’m just gonna go shoot.”

“Hey, use my pistol.” Dean said, standing and untucking the pistol from his waistband. I froze and stared at the gun in shock, because that was the pistol. The gun he’d always had with him, always used, this was it. Beautiful, pearl-handled, and shiny.

“Something wrong Diane?” Sam asked, and I looked at him, still in shock. 

“That’s… that’s… the pistol.” I stuttered, trying to wrap my head around why Dean would be offering it to me. 

“Sweetheart, I think you thinking of the Colt.” Dean chucked. 

I shook my head, gaze riveted on the gun. “No, no I know which gun the Colt is.” I said. “And this, this is the gun you’ve brandished for nearly thirteen seasons. You even offering to let me shoot this…” I let out a breathless laugh. “It’s surreal.”

“I’ve had this for nearly thirteen seasons?” He asked.

“And since before season one. Dean, this is almost as important as the amulet.” I said, staring at the gun. 

“Amulet?” he asked. 

“Your necklace.” I replied. 

“Well, just don’t break my gun. ‘Kay?” He asked. I took it, biting my lip. 

“You have my word,” I said, still reeling from shock. I made my way out to the yard, where Sam had already set up targets in anticipation of me shooting. I checked the clip, the safety, took aim, - deep breaths - and pulled the trigger. The first target shattered, and I grinned, aiming and firing again until I was out of targets. Giddy from actually getting to shoot the pistol I let out a long, joyful, exuberant laugh. 

“I actually got to shoot Dean’s pistol.” I muttered, making my way back to the house. Stepping inside, I was met with the sounds of someone fixing lunch, and then Bobby telling Sam to go get me. I ran into him in the hallway, and he was laughing at a joke Jo had made. 

It was like the perfect day, everyone was happy, smiling, laughing and joking. After dinner, which was Chinese takeout and a long lecture about monsters from China, Ellen and Jo hit the road, telling us to come by the Roadhouse. 

I smiled, waving and wishing everyday could be as relaxed as this one. As soon as the door closed, Gabriel popped in, handing out lollipops. 

“Hello!” He greeted cheerfully.

“Hey,” I said, surprised. “What’re you doing here?”

“Well, I maybe kinda sorta figured out why the summoning didn’t work.” He said, watching me. 

“What?!” I asked, nearly dropping my sucker. “Why? Why didn’t it work?”

“Because, she’s too powerful, plus, she’s trapped neck-deep in the pit. You’d have to have her real name.” He said, and I ran my tongue over my teeth, thinking. 

“There’s a way we can get it.” I said. “But it’s reckless, more reckless than anything you’ve done before,” I added, aiming the last part at Sam and Dean. “And even more stupid than John making that deal.”

“Whoa,” Dean said, taking a step back. “What are you planning?”

“To summon a demon. A demon I know I can work with, and I’ve got his real name too, believe me, we can get him.”

 

I waited, impatient in the middle of the crossroad. It was more than a summoning ritual, it was meant to summon a specific demon.

“You called?” A Scottish accent asked from behind me, and I allowed myself a brief smile before slipping into character, telling myself silently that it was an act. 

Turning, I took in the demon, noting that he was still the same, of course. Snarky, condescending, arrogant.

“I want information.” I said trying to keep my voice from betraying me. 

“On who? Your boyfriend?” He asked, walking towards me.

I shook my head silently, a tiny smile playing the corners of my lips. “On Lilith.”

He stopped then, and watched me for a moment. “You think your brother is screwing Lilith, your best friend,” He said. 

I snorted. “Oh God no. No, I want information about the demon, Lilith. Lucifer’s First? Ring a bell?”

“Why do you want to know about her?” He was circling me, and I turned to keep him in sight. 

“It’s in your own best interest too.” I said, watching as the gears whirred in his head. We could play this game all night, and he would try to lure me into a deal.

“Why would I give out information on my boss?” He asked, watching me carefully. 

“I thought you were the King of the Crossroad?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I am, but that doesn’t mean I rank higher than Lilith.” 

I took a calm breath, letting the silence grate on his nerves. I had cards, and so did he. It was all a matter of who would fold first. 

“Why do you want information about Lilith?” He asked again, and I pursed my lips. 

“She’s breaking the Seals.” I said, and he paused.

“No she isn’t,” He said. “I recently visited Hell, didn’t see the Righteous Man.”

“The name John Winchester ring a bell?” I asked.

“Maybe, why?”

He was circling again.

“Anyone from the Winchester line is qualified to be the Righteous Man, or, in other words,” I turn on my heel to watch him. “The vessel for an archangel.”

“And you think that Winchester will break.” He stated. 

“No, John isn’t going to break. Dean is.” I said, and he looked at me quizzically. “If things go as I know they will, and Lilith picks up where Azazel and Alastair left off, Dean makes a deal to bring his brother back. He gets one year, and then he goes to Hell. The angels try and recuse him, but they’re too late and it’s Apocalypse now.” I said, staring at him. 

“And if Lucifer gets out, why should I care?” Crowley asked. 

“Because if you think humans are worthless bags of puss to him, imagine what demons are.” I said, tilting my head ever so slightly. 

“Give me a reason not to kill you now,” Crowley said disinterestedly. 

“Because I’m the reason Azazel, Alastair, and Ruby were killed. Each of them had a role in popping Lucifer out of the box, and that’s why they died. I can have you killed just as easily.” I said, smiling pleasantly when he paused.

“Could you now?” He questioned. “How is that?”

I clicked my tongue. “Tsk, can’t reveal all my cards now can I? I need Lilith’s real name. The name she had in life.”

“I don’t know it.” He said, “Sorry.” 

“I don’t buy it. I know you can get the name, but I’m not giving you my soul.” I said flatly. “Now, if you want to be smote by an archangel you can take your pick: Gabriel or Lucifer?” 

He exhaled sharply through his nose, and I knew I’d won, but I didn’t show it yet. He had to consciously fold. 

“I’ll get you the name. Meet me tomorrow night, same place same time.” He said, before turning to leave. 

“Pleasure, as always, Crowley.” I said, nodding slightly before walking to where Sam and Dean waited in the Impala. The demon was gone as soon as I turned my back, and I smirked, sliding into the backseat.

“Well?” Dean asked, cranking the car. 

“Well, he can get the name. I don’t have to make a deal either, which is a big bonus. I’m meeting him here tomorrow night, same time.”

“Would you have made the deal?” Sam asked, twisting to look at me, and I nodded absently. 

“I not only know his full name, I know where he’s from, and that he had a son who’ll spill everything, willingly. I can get out of a deal with him, but I won’t have to. We never touched, we never agreed to anything.” I said, leaning my head back and closing my eyes. “Now can we get to the motel?” 

“Hey guys.” Gabriel said from beside me, and I jumped at his sudden appearance. “So, how’d it go?”

“I’m meeting him tomorrow, getting the name. Of course, if he forces me into a deal, I can always get out of it. I have a few tricks up my sleeve.” I smirked.

“What tricks?” Dean asked, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. 

“Well, there’s an old myth that if you burn a demon’s bones you can kill him. I know Crowley’s real name, plus that he had a son and that said son, Gavin, had a signet ring, which we can use to summon his ghost.” I said. “Gavin and his dad hate one another, we’ll have all the information we need.”

“Huh,” Sam said, nodding. “Is the myth true?”

“Yep,” I said. “Now, dealing with a demon like him is exhausting, because I royally suck at poker.” I said, leaning my head back against the seat and closing my eyes. 

“You know,” Gabriel said. “I could just send an illusion.” 

I cracked an eye to stare at him. “Yeah, you could. But Crowley is one smart cookie. He’ll be able to tell the difference and will want to speak to the real me. It’s one big game of poker, and I don’t cheat.”

“Well, it was a suggestion.” He shrugged.

“I know, but I’m tired and just want to sleep.” I said, closing my eye again.

“Fine by me,” Gabriel said, reaching out to tap my forehead with two fingers.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not a beta'd work, all mistakes are my own.

I woke up in my motel room, glad to see Sam asleep in the other bed. Here lately if I was with them, we’d get two rooms. Each was a double, so that if I had an attack or nightmare I could go to the other room. So far I hadn’t needed it, but we never knew. I used the bathroom and showered, changing into my pajamas, before picking up my journal. It’d been a long time since my last entry and I flipped it to a clean page. 

**I’ve been here for almost a month, but it’s been a lot longer back home. The day I woke up here, Marie told me I’d been missing for days. I got to see Sam - my brother - the other day, and he’d thought I was dead. He knows the truth now.  
Anyway, the boys and Bobby have taken me under their wing and have been teaching me so now I have all the book smarts. Sam’s teaching me to throw knives, and I’ve been getting a lot better at shooting. I have panic attacks sometimes, but they’re getting less frequent. Mainly they happen when I get really scared or nervous. I remember one of them, where I was recovering from it, and Sammy sang to me. He sang Teardrops On My Guitar, by Taylor Swift, said it was one of Jess’ favorites. He’s really sweet, and I’m going to do everything I can to keep both him and Dean safe. I’ve got a meeting with Crowley for Lilith’s real name, so we can summon her. After we do that, Gabriel is going to kill her. Either that or we are all dead people walking. **

I paused and reread what I’d written, before continuing. 

**I can’t talk to Marie anymore, her mom found out about us being bi, and her watching SPN. I have been talking to Merrida more lately, and it’s been really cool. She’s super sweet, and supportive. I can’t believe I have a jewel like her in my life. Okay that was really sappy but still, I meant it.  
I think that Sam and Dean and Bobby are eventually going to make me sit down and talk about why I have panic attacks. I’m not ready too though, and I’m honestly terrified of what they’ll do and say when they find it all out. But after this long, surely they wouldn’t kick me out, right? I mean, I’ve been here almost a month, surely they won’t just kick me out. Right?**

I could feel the panic rise up within me as I confessed my worries, and I snapped the journal shut, dropping the pen. 

_Of course they’ll get rid of you, whore. The tiny voice in my head said._

“Shut up Bellatrix,” I whispered out loud, pulling my knees to my chest. “I’m not a whore, and I didn’t know better back then.”

_Yes, yes you did. You knew better than to spread you legs for him. You went to him over and over and ov-_

“Enough!” I hissed into the dark room. “I know what I did, I know what I felt. But back then, I didn’t know better. You know it too Bella, so just leave me alone.”

_Oh little Dee-Dee you poor thing. You’re still a whore, still a Daddy’s girl. Still his little slut._

“Don’t ever call me that. No, I’m not his, I’m not a whore, I’m not a slut, I’m not some piece of filth.” I said, trying to keep calm. 

_Aww, wittle Diane doesn’t want to play._

“Leave me alone!” I whisper shouted, breathing erratically. 

_No! You’re a slut, a whore, a filthy piece of trash. Your dad didn’t love you, that’s why he killed himself and your step-daddy loved you in all the wrong ways. You are nothing to anyone, you’re just a piece of trash..._

I slid out of the bed, grabbing the key to Dean’s room, and leaving, the voice still talking in my head. I opened the door to the other room, silent sobs shaking my body as I shook Dean awake. He jerked, nearly pulling his gun on me.

“Diane, what’s wrong?” He whispered sleepily, dazed concern making his brow crinkle.

“Make it stop,” I whispered, “Please, make them stop talking.”

“Who?” He asked, sitting up and pulling me closer. 

“The voices, make them stop. They keep calling me names, and telling me awful things.” I whispered, stepping closer to him and letting him pull me into an embrace.

“What are they saying. Tell me,” He said, pulling the blanket around me. I wondered where he’d learned to care for someone like this before I remembered that he’d raised Sam. “Tell me and I’ll make it better.”

“They keep calling me a whore and a slut.” I whispered, clutching the blanket close. “They keep talking about how I was his whore, how I was a- a-” I trailed off, not able to form the words.

“I can’t make it better if you don’t tell me,” He said, holding me in his arms, blanket and all.

“Daddy’s girl.” I whisper. “They keep calling me a Daddy’s girl.”

“What else?” He asked, rocking slightly as I started shaking again. 

“They tell me that my dad didn’t love me, that’s why he killed himself. And my step-dad loved me in the wrong way. That I’m nothing, just trash.” I confessed into his shirt, trying to keep from breaking down.

“Those voices are wrong,” He said softly. “You mean the world to me and Sam, Dee-Dee.” He said, and I jerked away from him. He let me go, and even scooted back so I would be comfortable.

“Don’t call me that. He called me that.” I sniffed. 

“Well, what can I call you?” He asked gently.

“Di, no one calls me just Di.” I said after a moment, scooting towards him slightly. He moved back to me, holding me again. 

“You mean the world to Bobby, and Sam, and me, Di.” He said, rubbing my shoulder. “Having you with us has been a learning experience, and a good one. I don’t know what we’d do without you now, I mean, Bobby’s house would be so empty without you running around, playing guitar or shooting or cooking.” He said, and I relaxed a little. “I’d miss teaching you about hunting, and if you left now, I’d never get to teach you how to hustle pool and cards.” He lifted my wrists from under the blanket, and held both on them in one huge hand. “I’d never get to show you my own scars, the ones I didn’t get from hunting. If you left now I wouldn’t be able to help you.” He said, rubbing his thumbs over my wrists. I stared at them shakily before I relaxed fully against him, letting myself relax. He knew what happened, or enough of it, and he still protected me. I vaguely heard him humming _Livin’ On A Prayer_ before I closed my eyes and drifted off.

 

Dean cradled Diane in his arms, staring down at her. She hadn’t directly told him, but he could piece it together. She’d been sexually abused by her stepfather, and she blamed herself. She wanted to hurt herself but she knew she would get in trouble for it, so she came to Dean. He knew she was terrified of what would he would think, that he would make her leave. 

So he’d assured her, put her at ease, and then did what he did with Sammy when he’d had a nightmare. He hummed classic rock to get her to sleep, while he held her, protecting her. When she was asleep, he picked her up and carried her to the other bed, snagging the blanket from it before returning to his own bed. He stayed up that night, making sure she slept peacefully and didn’t have nightmares. Eventually, he fell asleep too. 

 

I woke up in the second bed in Dean’s room, and tried to remember how I got there. After a moment, I remembered, and I closed my eyes again, wishing I wasn’t so damn insecure. 

“Morning sunshine,” Dean said from somewhere to my left, and I groaned, kicking the covers off my body. “We’re heading to a diner nearby for breakfast, so get dressed. Sammy’s waiting, and I don’t trust him with Baby.”

I heard the motel door close behind him, and I crawled out of bed, grabbing my bag - which Sam had mercifully brought over - and pawing through it for clothes. After pulling on a dress and jacket, I brushed my hair and pulled it up into a bun on top of my head before heading out to the Impala.

“Hail Di! Queen of hunting!” Dean greeted me when I emerged. I paused to stare at him for a moment before shaking my head and closing the motel door behind me. 

“C’mon, I need food.” I said, getting in the backseat. They chuckled, but climbed in obligingly. 

“Hey, Tuesday, Pig in a Poke!” Dean exclaimed when we sat down. I froze, and turned to stare at the sign. 

_Gabriel I swear to your father if you stick one of us in a time loop and kill Dean repeatedly I will personally journey to Jerusalem to get holy oil, and then I’m going to douse you in it and deep-fry myself an archangel._ I prayed in frustration. Gabriel sauntered through the doors of the diner moments later and strolled up to our table. 

“Diane, was that prayer really necessary?” he asked, sliding into the booth. 

“You tell me.” I retorted, taking a drink from my orange juice. 

“You took away my reason for the time loop,” He said, stealing my toast. “Plus, I don’t doubt for a moment that you would go all the way to Jerusalem for holy oil.”

“Good,” I said, taking the partially eaten piece of toast back and munching on it. Sam and Dean watched us in confusion, before Dean decided to speak.

“Time loop?”

“Mm hmm,” I said. “If I hadn’t interfered, Gabriel would have put Sam in a loop, and killed you repeatedly.”

“Why?” Sam asked, morbid curiosity written across his features.

“To teach you a lesson, but I prevented that.” I said, reaching for the ketchup and squirting it all over my eggs. 

“Uh huh,” Dean, said, eyes on the eggs. “How can you possibly put that in your mouth. Ketchup and scrambled eggs?” He asked, wrinkling his nose. I laughed, scooping a forkful up and pushing it into my mouth. 

“Mmmmm,” I said, nodding. “I missed this.”

Sam eyed the mixture distrustfully, but didn’t say anything. After we made it past breakfast without Dean - or Sam or me - dying, and we were in the parking lot, Sam decided to bring up that I’d switched rooms while he was asleep. 

“So, Diane,” He said, as we paid and left. “This morning I woke up and you were gone.” He said, looking at me sideways. I shrugged uncomfortably, glancing at Dean. 

“Yeah,”

“Wanna share with the class why you left?” He asked.

“No,” I said quietly, shaking my head. 

“Diane, you can’t just up and switch rooms without reason.” He sighed, and I spun to look at him, anger flaring up white-hot and sudden. 

“Maybe it didn’t cross your mind that I don’t want to talk about the reason I ‘up and switched rooms.'” I hissed, glaring. 

He didn’t say anything, and I knew I’d gotten through to him when he walked away, obviously trying to sort through his thoughts. Gabriel followed him, and they talked in low tones. 

“Dean?” I asked softly. 

“What’s up?” He asked, just as soft.

“Are you going to tell Sam?” I asked, glancing at him. 

“No,” Dean sighed, “Not unless you want me to.”

“Please don’t,” I said hoarsely. “He’ll just want me to talk about it, and that’s the last thing I want to do.”

“I understand,” He chuckled. “Sammy’s big on the chick-flick moments.” I nodded, staring at the ground. After a moment, I felt Dean’s hand land on my shoulder. “I’m here if you need to talk,” He said, and squeezed my shoulder before letting it drop.

“There is way too much estrogen in the air right now,” I muttered, and he laughed, throwing his head back. 

“I think we’ve had a bad influence on you.” He said, still chuckling. 

“What’s so funny?” Sam asked, and I shook my head, smiling. 

“Nothing,” I said, glancing at Dean. “I said something he thought was hilarious.”

“Hey, can’t help it you have my sense of humor.” He defended. Sam still looked confused, but chuckled, and Gabriel gave me a conspiratorial wink.

“So?” I asked, smiling. “Who’s ready for tonight?”

“I am beyond ready to have this Apocalypse business behind us,” Gabriel said, shaking his head in exasperation. “I have douches who need to be punished.”

“I know, I know.” I said, nodding. “After tomorrow you’ll be free to go.”

“I sure hope so.” He said, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. 

 

After night fell, we made our way to the crossroads, where I waited for the demon. It was well past midnight when he showed up, and I was tired. 

“Hello darling,” He said from behind me, and I turned, awareness seeping through my veins.

“Hello Crowley.” I greeted, nodding to him. 

“You wanted Lilith’s real name, yes?” He asked, and I nodded. “Well, I’m afraid I can’t give you that information. Not without a little bonus for me. You see, I want your soul, and in return I give you her name.”

I paused, as if I was seriously mulling it over. 

“The usual ten years, correct?” I clarified. He nodded at me, and I sighed, pretending that whatever I was thinking went against all my morals. After a few seconds, I nodded. 

“Fine. You can have my soul, but, you may only use it to find out Lilith’s real name and give the information to me. You must then return my soul to me, or at the very least transfer ownership to the archangel Gabriel, who will give me my soul back.” I said, watching him carefully. 

“You sure know how to put the fine print in there,” He chuckled. “But okay, if it’s truly in my best interest, I agree to your conditions.” He said, walking towards me. 

“How is the deal sealed?” I asked, and he smiled at me slyly. 

“With a kiss,” He said and I nodded, letting him lean in to press his lips against mine. His hands moved to my hips as I instinctively backed up, and he held me still while his lips moved gently against mine. I pulled away after a moment, mulling over the kiss. 

“Never thought my first kiss would be with a demon,” I mused aloud, and then laughed at the surprised look on his face. 

“I was your first kiss?” He asked, and I nodded and he paused a moment. “Was it good?”

I shrugged, nodding. “I guess. It wasn’t bad,” I paused, before blurting out, “Your lips are very soft.” 

He chuckled as I flushed bright red, and I nodded to myself. _Real smooth Diane,_ I told myself. 

“I’ll find you when I have the name,” He said, and I nodded in acknowledgement before I turned to leave.

“Did you make a deal?!” Dean practically yelled at me as soon as I slid into the back seat. 

“What the Hell, Diane!” Sam exclaimed, and I took a moment to compose my thoughts. 

“We need to go back to Bobby’s. We’re going to need more details than what I have right now.” I said, nodding to myself. “And yes, I made a deal. But it had to be made, and I can get out of it.”

“Diane Clark do not make me pull this car over.” Dean said dangerously, and I sighed angrily. 

“Dean Winchester do not make me slap some sense into your hide.” I snapped back, falling against my seat with a sigh. “Look, I know how to get out of the deal. And the fact is there’s a subsection somewhere in my contract saying that Crowley only has to make best efforts to give me my soul back.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam asked.

“It means he can but he won’t.” I said flatly. “I’m going to force him to.”

“How?” He asked, twisting to look at me.

“I can’t say now. There’s a chance he planted a tracking coin/hidden mic on me. If so, all he knows is that I am claiming I can force him into giving me my soul back.” I said, scrolling through my phone and checking for notifications. “Once we get to the motel, I’m going to go to my room and strip to see if he planted one. If he has, let’s not talk about anything of high priority just now, yeah?”

The boys nodded, and I smiled as we pulled back into the motel. This time, I didn’t have any panic attacks in the middle of the night.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not a beta'd work, all mistakes are my own.

We packed up in the morning, and headed back to Bobby’s, and I was pleasantly surprised when Dean put in an AC/DC track, and I grinned. I started singing at the same time Dean did, and the brother’s surprised glances didn't’ escape me. “Back in black...I hit the sack...I been gone too long...I’m glad to be back...Yes I’m let loose...From the noose...That’s kept me hanging about,” I belted out, letting the classic rock wash over me. 

After a moment of shock, Dean started singing along with me, and I grinned, listening to Sam sing along much more softly. The rest of the drive was spent listening to some of Dean’s favorites, and I particularly loved _You Shook Me All Night Long_ , as it was the same song that played in 4x01, Lazarus Rising. 

After a long drive, we arrived back at Bobby’s and I headed straight for the shower, trying to wash away the feeling that telling Dean what had happened was a bad thing. _It’s time someone knew,_ I thought to myself. Keeping it bottled up was destroying me.

I finished washing up in a contemplative state, thinking about the situation. After a few minutes, I realized I’d ended up dressed and sitting on my bed, staring out the window. I reached for my notebook, opening it to a new page and pausing. I wasn’t sure what I was going to write, but knew I wanted to write something.

When I finished, I paused, rereading the lyrics. They’d be tweaked once I actually got to the tablature, but it was a good song. I smiled, reaching for my guitar, ready to try and sing it. I strummed gently, humming to myself as I ran through a few chords, not realizing that Sam was standing in my doorway, regarding me with a solemn expression. 

“Have a lot of experience with heavy burdens?” He asked as he read the lyrics, and I looked up, my smile falling at the grave face he wore. 

_“By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,”_ I murmured, smiling slightly. “Why do you ask, Sammy?” I asked. 

“Dean told me what happened the other night. Well, I made him tell me.” He said, and I tightened my grip on my guitar.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I said tersely. 

“Diane, you need to talk about it.” He implored earnestly, walking a few steps into the room.

“Sam! I’m dealing, okay?” I snapped, looking away from him.

“Why’d you tell Dean? And not me?” He asked. 

“I wouldn’t have, not if I’d been thinking like normal.” I insisted. He didn’t say anything, but bit his lip, watching me. “Sam, I can’t talk about it. I can’t. It hurts, and I’m trying to move past it.” I said, shaking my head as tears pooled in my eyes. 

He crossed the room and took my guitar from me, setting it on the bed before wrapping his arms around me. I wrapped my arms around him, hiding my face in his torso, sniffling.

“Hush, it’s okay,” He murmured, rubbing soothing circles into my shoulder. 

“Sam, I’m sorry but I can’t tell you what happened. I’m not ready to.” I said into his shirt, clinging to him tighter. 

“I know, I know. I shouldn’t have pushed you, I’m sorry. Everybody has stories they can’t share, and this one is yours. You’ll tell us when you’re ready,” He said, running a hand through my hair comfortingly. Over the past weeks I’d lost my infatuation with him, viewing him as a big brother now more than ever. 

After a moment, I pulled away, swiping at my eyes. “Sorry for the mess.” I muttered, not meeting his eye.

“It’s okay,” He said, dropping his hand from my shoulder. 

I shrug, staring at the floor. Neither of us said anything for a few moments. 

“Hey, you said you write?” He asked, and I nodded. “I’ve been working on this piece, and I need an editor. Dean would just laugh, and I don’t know anyone else who can do it.” He said, gesturing with his hands. “Can I hire you to be my editor?” 

I laughed, watching him incredulously. “You want to hire me? As an editor?” I asked. 

“Yes,” He said, nodding. “I’ll go get my laptop.” 

I sighed as he dashed off, coming back a few moments later with his laptop, pulling up a document for me to look at. 

I scanned it, reading the poem he’d written. “I can edit this for you, and it’ll be about $10.” I said, nodding. “We can do it now,”

“Awesome!” He said, and sat down next to me. We spent the next twenty minutes going over each line, pointing out different words he could’ve used, adding a little or deleting certain words. When I was done, I re-read it again and nodded approvingly. “You’ve got real talent Sam, you just need practice.” I assured, and he handed me a ten-dollar bill. I smiled, putting it on my nightstand. 

“Thank you Diane,” He said, giving me a one-armed hug. 

I chuckled, returning the hug. “It’s nothing. I need to work with words again.” I said, shrugging. 

“You know, I’d like to read some of your work. I mean, I know you write songs, but I haven’t gotten to read anything you’ve written.” He said, tilting his head at me.

I shrugged again. “I’ve always been private with my work. Only the people I trust ever get to read it.”

“You don’t trust me?” He asked in mock offense. 

“It’s not that, it’s that I’m afraid of what you’ll think. I’m just shy with my work,” I said, crinkling my nose.

He laughed, nodding. “Well come on, join us downstairs. We’re sitting around trying to figure out ways to get you schooled, without actually enrolling you. I know you said you were homeschooled, so you wouldn’t have experience with public school.” He said, leading the way downstairs.

“I could just do school on the computer,” I suggested. “There’s always Khan Academy, which is one I’ve used before and like.”

“Huh, I never even thought of that,” Sam said, and I smirked. 

“Figures,” I said, and he turned to smack at me. 

“Don’t be snarky,” He said, laughing.

Dean and Bobby were in the library, talking about something in low tones. I grabbed Sam’s arm to keep him from interrupting, watching them with my brow furrowed. 

“...Bobby, I’m worried. She means alot to me now, I don’t like that she’s been hurt.” Dean’s voice floated to me. 

“I don’t like it either,” Bobby said. “... but Dean, she won’t talk to us. She won’t even talk to the angel.”

I chose this moment to clear my throat, and they looked up, a smile spreading across Dean’s face. 

“Hey! The guest of honor!” He greeted. I smiled at him, approaching to see the book they had spread out. 

“What’s this?” I asked, moving it so it wasn’t upside down to me. 

“A lore book, it’s about the pagan god Loki,” Bobby said, watching as I pulled up a chair. 

“Well, Loki isn’t really Loki. He’s a Trickster, who I know to be the archangel Gabriel,” I said mildly, still looking at the book. “However, the subject is fascinating.”

“Huh, so what about the other pagan gods?” Sam asked. 

“All evil dicks who need to be smote,” I said absently, peering at a picture in the book. 

“Smote? What, we can’t kill them?” Dean asked, and I could hear the offense in his voice. 

“Well, you can, but it’s a pain in the rear for humans. Angels, especially archangels, seem to be very adept at exploding things.” I said, looking up at him in amusement. “Well, exploding things seems to be Luci’s style at least."

“The devil likes to explode things?” Sam clarified. 

“Mm hmm.” I hummed, sitting back. “The whole ordeal with hating humanity is just a big temper tantrum. What we call the Apocalypse, Gabriel used to call Sunday dinner. That’s why everyone thinks it can’t be stopped.” I sighed.

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, leaning back against the desk. 

“The Apocalypse isn’t about a war. It’s about two brothers, who loved each other, and betrayed each other.” I said, staring at the desk forlornly. 

“Sound like you’re quoting someone.” Dean observed and I nodded.

“Season five, episode eight, Changing Channels. Gabriel explaining to you guys why you just can’t pull the plug on the Apocalypse.” I said, shrugging. 

“So, are you going to keep talking about Heaven and the angels, or would you like to know Lilith’s name?” A Scottish voice from behind us asked, and I stood, whirling to face him. 

“Crowley,” I greeted. “You have her name?”

“Yes, I do.” He smirked. “It’s Aya Lilu.” 

“Aya Lilu,” I repeated, rolling the words off my tongue. “So, are you sticking around for the smiting?” I asked. 

“Better not, oh and I put a little subclause in your contract.” He said, waving his hand, and demonic script flowered across my skin, burning everywhere. I gasped as the burning spread into my more sensitive areas. “Paragraph eighteen, subsection B - which is on your naughty bits -” Dean growled, but I put up a hand, waiting for the demon to finish. “Says that I only have to make best efforts to give you your soul back.” He shrugged. 

“Meaning what?” I asked, glaring. 

“Meaning I’d like to-” He lifted his arms like he was straining, then dropped them. “But I can’t.”

I shook my head in disgust. “I hate demons.” I muttered. “Go on then, we’re about to summon Aya Lilu.” I said, shooing at Crowley as the script faded from my skin.

He smiled, and disappeared, leaving me to deal with Dean and Sam. 

“Diane! What the Hell?” Dean asked, looking at me.

“I know you hate flying, but after we gank Lilith, that’s exactly what you’re going to have to do. Now, we need Gabe, and we’re going to figure out my deal soon, okay?” I asked.

“Fine.” He muttered. 

_Gabriel who art maybe hiding his ass away from Heaven, we pray that you have your ears on… breaker, breaker..._

“Hey guys!” A cheerful voice said. “You got the name?” 

“Yes, we do. Lilith’s real name is Aya Lilu.” I said, smiling at the Trickster.

“You’re kidding, right?” Gabriel asked. 

“Nope. Why?” I asked, tilting my head. 

“In lore, Aya was a goddess and wife to Shamash, or Utu, god of the sun. Lucifer was the Morning-Star. Lilu was a wandering demon, which is just plain ironic.” He snorted, and I nodded, filing the information away as I gathered ingredients.

“And you’re positive that you can kill her?” I asked, watching him. 

“Yep! Archangel, remember?” He asked, smiling. 

“Yes, I know.” I snapped. “It’s just that if you cannot kill her, we are all dead. All of us. Even you, Gabriel. Because she’s going let Lucifer out, and then he kills you. Do you realize how extreme this is?” I asked, waiting for it to sink in. 

“Diane, I completely understand. It’s life or death, I get it.” He said, putting a hand on my shoulder. “I can kill her.” He assured me.

“Good,” I said, nodding. “Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually did research for the name Aya Lilu, (I know, I researched, wha?) and you can look up Aya, Lilu, Utu, and Shamash up on Wikipedia. I have to thank my mom though, she really helped me out.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is fairly short, and it's the end. Thanks for reading!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not a beta'd work, all mistakes are my own.

Bobby finished the incantation, striking a match and dropping it into the ritual bowl, stepping back into the salt circle with me and the boys as sparks flew. Gabriel was leaned back against a wall, waiting patiently. 

“Someone called?” A little girl’s voice asked from behind us. We turned, watching her. 

“Hey, nice to meet you, bitch.” I said, eyeing the little girl she was possessing. 

“I don’t like you,” She said seriously, and lifted her hand, about to break my neck. 

“Hey!” Gabriel said and she turned to look at him. “I have a bone to pick with you.” He said, pressing his palm against her forehead. 

Wind blew threw the room, light growing behind her skin, and I turned away this time, unable to stand the brightness. Lilith screamed, throwing her head back as light poured from her eyes and mouth. 

It went on for minutes, each one seeming longer than the last, stretching on in an endless cycle. Eventually, the light dimmed, and I turned, stepping out of the circle to go to the girl. 

“I she alive?” I asked, cradling the limp body. 

“Yes, barely, but yes,” Gabriel panted, watching her. “She’ll always be traumatized, but she’s safe now.”

I let out a shaky breath of relief, rocking the girl back and forth. “Can you take her home?” I asked, and he nodded, reaching out to touch two fingers to her forehead. She vanished, and I stood, grabbing a chair for the weakened archangel. 

“Hey, whoa, sit down,” I said, easing him into the chair. “I can’t thank you enough for this, Gabriel, really. You just stopped the Apocalypse,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief. “You saved so many people, and I can’t really express just how much that matters to me.” I said, pulling him into a hug. 

He hugged me back, and I felt tears prick my eyes. 

After a moment, I pulled away, blinking away the blurriness in my vision. 

“Uh, yeah,” Dean said. “Thanks.” 

“Really, thank you. If everything was going to be as bad as Diane said,” Sam sighed raking a hand through his hair. “Thanks.”

Bobby nodded at him, and I swallowed, waiting a moment to compose myself before speaking. “So? Pie?” 

After a celebration party for stopping the Apocalypse, I was in my room, going through some of my things. 

“Hey,” Gabriel said from my doorway. 

“Hey yourself,” I said, turning to smile at him. “You sticking around?” I asked. 

“I think so, I got used being around you guys.” He said, nodding. “You’re fun.” 

“Thanks,” I said, laughing. “Since there’s no chance of Lucifer getting out, are you going to go back to Heaven? I mean, they could use you. Raphael has become, a monster, really. Michael is just as cold as he’s always been, but there are angels who need to experience free will, and you can teach them so much.” I said, looking at him sincerely. 

“I don’t know,” Gabriel said. “I don’t like Heaven, there’s a reason I left.”

“Just talk it out with them, they’ll understand.” I said earnestly. “Gabriel, you are an archangel for a reason. Try to reconcile with them, you don’t have to tell them where you were in case things go south, but please.” I said. 

“I’ll try, but if it goes wrong, I’m blaming you.” He warned, before flying off. 

I smiled at where he’d been standing before picking up my photo album and flipping through it. I was staring at a picture of my brother I’d taken about a month before I came here when I felt a large, warm, hand land on my shoulder. 

“Diane-” Sam started but I cut him off, still staring at the photo. My brother would want me to tell.

“It started when I was about nine.” I said. “He had stomach pains, and pressure helped relieve them. Well one day, I was laying across his stomach, playing on his phone, because I’d get bored, when- when he touched me. He touched he wasn’t supposed to, and after a while, tried to get me to touch him, in places I wasn’t supposed to. I didn’t do it, I never did. Eventually, I told my mom. She said the final choice was up to her. I didn’t want him to go to prison, because he was the only source of income for my family. That’s the only reason. After a while, uh, I hit puberty. And, um, I went to him. And I kept going, even though I knew it was wrong.” I was crying silently now, tears falling onto my brother’s picture. “When I finally had the courage, I told my mom it was happening again. This time, we told my brother, who was more than ready to make the trip to the sheriff’s office. But in the end, we all agreed to give him another chance, my main reason being that our economy was failing and we needed the money he was making. I’ve kept it a secret for five years, and I don’t want to anymore. I need to tell someone. I need to tell you,” I said, my voice breaking, choking out the last part as I turned into his embrace, burying my face in his chest. “I can’t do this anymore Sam. I can’t keep it inside of me anymore.” I sobbed, clutching him tightly. 

“Hush, hush it’s okay.” He said, holding me close. “I can’t tell you how much I want to kill the son of a bitch that hurt you, but I’m here, and I am never leaving. No one can hurt you again, no one.” He said fiercely. “You’re the sister I always wanted, and nothing will ever hurt you again, I swear.” Sammy promised, and I felt another pair of arm encircle me. 

“No one,” Dean swore, and I sobbed harder, clinging to them. Someone else joined the hug, and I shook silently, tears still streaming down my cheeks. 

Maybe I’d finally found somewhere where I could be myself and not be judged. 

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow guys, this is it. I know I posted all of it really quickly, but I got super shy. So, this is it. Please leave a comment to let me know what you thought, but please don't leave hate. 
> 
> Thank you for reading this!! 
> 
> \- Claire

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based off of real people that I know, and a girl who has suffered the same abuse the Diane went through - which will be talked about in later chapers. Concrit is appreciated, but some things can't be changed due to the facts of what happened to my friend. I have her full permission to write this.


End file.
